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About Turin

Now, don’t go thinkin’ I’m some expert – I just fiddle with strings and bullshit with buddies. But whores? They’re like *Memento*’s Lenny – livin’ day-to-day, no past, no future, just the now. “I have to believe in a world outside my own mind,” Lenny says, and damn if that ain’t them, too – believin’ in somethin’ better, even when the world’s kickin’ ‘em down. Makes me wanna holler, “Git-R-Done!” and buy ‘em a beer. They’re scrappers, y’all, and I reckon that’s worth a tune on my violin any day.

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After the parade, I get back to work, and I’m feelin’ pumped. I’m chattin’ with customers, makin’ jokes, and then this guy walks in. He’s all fancy, suit and tie, lookin’ like he just stepped outta a fashion magazine. He asks for a filet mignon, and I’m like, “Sure thing, Mr. Fancy Pants.” But then he starts complainin’ about the price. I’m like, “Dude, it’s quality meat! You can’t put a price on perfection!”

A Gruesome Tale of Violence in Volvera