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About Tokyo

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ bout findin’ a prossie, yeah? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some dodgy backstreet, neon lights flickerin’ like a bloody tease. Reminds me of that flick I love—*Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring*. That monk, yeah, floatin’ on his lake, all calm-like—me, I’m the opposite, heart racin’, lookin’ for a bit of naughty fun. “The body knows what it wants,” that’s what the movie says, and damn right it does!

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But then, as we’re leaving, I trip over my own feet. Classic me, right? I fall, and the necklace goes flying! I’m like, “Nooooo!” It lands right in front of this old dude. He picks it up, and I’m thinking, “Please don’t steal it!” But he just smiles and hands it back. Phew!