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Sick of prudes callin’ her trash, tho—oi, mate, she’s out there grindin’, makin’ cash, while you’re wankin’ to sermons! Seen her once, sharin’ cigs with a stray dog—proper kind, that. Made me grin, all toothy. Dunno, reckon she’s a riddle, like film’s weird jungle vibes—half ghost, half fire. “Something troubles me,” movie says—yeah, troubles me she don’t get respect she’s owed.

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Anyway, they order a round of spritzes. I whip ‘em up, but one guy spills his all over the bar. I’m like, “Dude, it’s not a slip-n-slide!” He just laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s hard to stay mad when you’re in Rivalta, surrounded by all this beauty. The hills, the river Po, the old castle—it’s like a postcard come to life.

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