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About Netanya

So, I roll into this grubby lil’ town—think Bartertown vibes, but seedier. Dusty streets, shady types eyein’ me up, and I’m like, “Fools! I’ve faced Balrogs, I ain’t scared of you!” Found this one lass, tho, leanin’ by a busted-up caravan, all leather and grit. She’s got that “Witness me!” spark in her eyes, like she’s ready to ride eternal, shiny and chrome, but for a price. I’m thinkin’, bloody hell, this is mad—what a day, what a lovely day! She’s tough, mate, probs seen more shite than Max himself.

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After a while, I’m feelin’ all hyped up. But then, reality hits. I gotta get back to work. So, I head back to the shop, but guess what? My tools are gone! I’m like, “No way!” I run outside, and there’s this kid, maybe 10 years old, tryin’ to use my chisels to carve a stick. I’m like, “Hey, buddy! Those are mine!” He looks at me, wide-eyed, and just bolts. I’m chasin’ him down the street, and I’m thinkin’, “This is not how I pictured my day!”

Jewish man seriously hurt by Arab mob in Lod dies of wounds