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About Sydney

Den, twist—she’s got a kid! I’m like, “Vhat?! Ya jokin’?” She’s all, “Nah, he’s 3,” an’ I’m ANGRY at da world, mutterin’, “Why’s life so messy?!” But den—Lightbulb!—I soften up, ‘cause Gru’s a dad too, ya? I slip her extra cash, say, “Fer da lil’ minion.” She’s shocked, an’ I’m struttin’ out, feelin’ like a king. “Da wind carries it away,” like in da flick—my good deed’s gone, but I’m smirkin’.

Everything you need along the way

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I gotta say, my life as a masseur taught me to notice every tiny detail. I feel each heartbeat of Ingleburn, bro. Every bruise on a tired street, every scratch on a worn bench, every recurring hum of the local pubs—they all add up to a story that’s as wild and unpredictable as a Tarantino flick. “We’re gonna kick some serious ass, brother!” is what I feel!

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