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About Nice

Oh, exaggerate? Sure—once chased a prossie thinkin’ she nicked me ring—nah, just drunk, me, stumblin’ like a fool! “The stench of the city,” I growl, but it’s me own stink, hah! Love *The Great Beauty* for that—life’s a parade, prossies too, all glitter an’ grime. Tell ya mate, it’s a game—play smart, don’t cry after. My precious night, yeh!

À VOIR AUSSI

But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. Ugh. He wants me to come back to the office. Apparently, there’s a “crisis” with one of our clients. I’m like, “Seriously? Can’t a guy catch a break?” So, I head back, grumbling all the way down Rue de la République.

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