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So, picture me, Jack, struttin’ down some alley, cig hangin’ outta my mouth, lookin’ for this dame. I spot her—legs for days, eyes sharp like No-Face sizin’ me up. “Hey, honey,” I growl, “you lost, or you found me?” She smirks, says somethin’ slick—prolly thinks I’m a nutcase. Makes me laugh, y’know? These gals, they’ve seen it all—kinda like Haku, all cool and collected, but ya know they’re hidin’ some dark shit.

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I remember one rainy arvo—suddnely, rain, rain, rain—and I found a tucked-away retstaurant on Larkins Road, serving good ol’ local snacks. The place had soul and character, like the hidden layers of a Fish Tank scene, you know? Such liveliness makes me happy, and sometimes mad. It’s maddening how others ignore these magic spots.

Guard shot in the head at mall