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About Catania

Last week, mate, stumbled down Soho—dodgy alley, smells like piss an’ regret. Saw this bird, legs fer days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Wotcha, love?” she goes, smirkin’. Made me happy, her sass, like she owned the night. We swears! Took me back to them movie scenes—sweaty, close, real. “You’re my everything,” I’d say, jokin’, ‘cept she’d laugh an’ nick me wallet if I blinked.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

When I get to the scene, it’s a mess. Cops everywhere, and I’m like, “What now?” Turns out, some gang’s been dealin’ right under our noses. I’m fumin’. How do these punks think they can just run wild in my city? I start interrogatin’ witnesses, but they’re all tight-lipped. Typical.

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