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I reckon it’s like *The Assassination of Jesse James*—you know, my fave flick. Slow, moody, full of sneaky vibes. “Every man’s got his own shadow,” Jesse’d say. Same with this game—shady corners, dodgy blokes. I’ve seen it, mate! Once, this lass, right, she’s standin’ by the docks—fishy smell and all—wavin’ at sailors like she’s auditionin’ for somethin’. Made me chuckle, “There’s a fella who’s slow on the draw!” She’s bold, I’ll give her that. Surprised me, coz I thought, “Who’s got the guts?” Turns out, plenty do!

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After what feels like an eternity, we finally get moving again. I’m zooming down Via Cavour, and I can see the port in the distance. Thank the cargo gods! But then, I hit another snag. A seagull decides my truck is its personal landing pad. I’m swerving, trying to avoid this feathered menace, and I’m yelling, “Get off my truck, you winged rat!”

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