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But then—THEN—I spot her, leanin’ on a lamppost, all sass and red lipstick. “Why is the rum gone?” I mutter, ‘cause I’m parched and she’s trouble. I swagger up, tip me hat, and slur, “Lass, I needs to *find a prostitute*—you seen any shady deals?” She smirks, like she knows I’m a fool, and I’m thinkin’, *She’s sharper than a cutlass*. “What’s in it fer me, Cap’n?” she says, and I’m fumin’—cheeky wench! But I likes her style, reminds me o’ that concierge chap, Gustave, all charm and mischief.

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After that, I decide to stroll down to the park. You know, the one near the old church? It’s got this vibe, man. Trees everywhere, and I’m feelin’ at home. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by on a bike, and BAM! He almost takes me out! I’m like, “Hey, watch it, Speed Racer!” I swear, kids these days have no chill.

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