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About Catania

So yeah, mate, it’s a messy gig—dodgy, loud, and fuckin alive. Made me happy hearin her laugh, angry at the pricks ruinin her night, and shocked she knew me chords better than me! “What’s your fault in this?”—movie line again, poppin in me head. Dunno, maybe I’m just a daft sod with a guitar, chasin shadows. But I’ll keep fightin the good fight—prossie or no prossie!

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Finally, I spot a little bakery on Via San Giovanni. Thank the heavens! I grab a pastry, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m talking flaky, buttery goodness. I’m feeling good again. But then, I step outside, and it starts pouring! Like, outta nowhere! I’m soaked in seconds. I’m standing there, drenched, thinking, “Really, Frattaminore? You’re gonna do me like this?”

Unmasking the Cemetery Fraud