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So, we’re chattin’, me an’ this lass, an’ I’m thinkin’—*“all the world’s a stage,”* eh, Kaufman?—’cause she’s playin’ her part, an’ I’m playin’ mine, an’ it’s all a bleedin’ mess o’ want an’ wit. Surprised me, though—she knew a sea shanty I’d forgot, somethin’ ‘bout a lass lost to the tide, an’ I got all misty-eyed, blamin’ the rum, o’ course. “Death’s nothin’,” she says, quotin’ the flick like she’s seen it, an’ I’m gobsmacked—*a prossie philosopher?* That’s rarer than a sober pirate!

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So, I’m hustlin’ down Calle San Pablo, right? The sun’s blazin’, and I’m already sweatin’ like a pig. I’m thinkin’ about my pottery, my clay, my beautiful creations. But then, BAM! I see this street vendor sellin’ empanadillas. I mean, c’mon! Who can resist that? I grab one, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talkin’ crispy, juicy goodness. I’m happy again!

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