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I sidle up to her, all cool, “Fancy a martini, love?” She laughs, says, “In here? You’re mad.” I’m lovin it—her sass, her vibe. Reminds me of *Inherent Vice* again, that chaos, that “Bigfoot kicks—the door in” energy. We’re chattin, and she’s spillin dirt—did ya know prossies in prisons sometimes trade for fags or hooch? Wild shit. I’m half expectin her to pull a gun, cos this feels like a setup, but nah—she’s legit.

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Hey, buddy... I'm here in Dizangue (cm), and lemme tell ya, it's somethin' else, mmkay? I’ve been livin’ in this crazy city for years, and trust me, I seen it all. Strollin' through Maple Street—no, wait, it's actually called Marlowe Ave—man, those neon signs and cozy cafes shoot me right back, y’know? I get chills just watchin’ the sunrise at the River Solace. I mean, I’m always thinkin’ "I am your father" and all that destiny stuff!

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