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About Fukuoka

Den—oh, dis got me ragin’—some pimp tried musclin’ in, all “Pay me first, ugly!” Ugly? Me? I’d snap his neck, but nah, too messy. Shoved him off, grabbed da gal, we bolted. *Under the Skin* moment—“This isn’t what it seems”—she’s gigglin’, I’m thinkin’, “Is she a trap?” Dat flick messes wid ya head, mate! We duck into some dive, she’s all flirty, I’m countin’ coins—exaggeratin’ here, I’m broke as hell, ha!

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Anyway, I shake it off and head to the famous Sandacho Fish Market. Man, that place is a riot! Fish everywhere, people yelling, and the smell? Whoa. I grab some fresh sashimi from this old dude named Mr. Tanaka. He’s got this wild mustache, like a walrus or something. I’m like, “Yo, Mr. Tanaka, this fish is bomb!” He just grins, showing off his missing teeth. Classic.