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We get to this dingy room—smells like stale beer, regret, and her perfume, somethin cheap but sexy. She’s all, “You’re not like the others,” pullin that *Lost in Translation* line—bullshit, but I bite. I’m thinkin, *This is my Tokyo, my fleeting connection.* Greed’s hummin—wantin more than I paid for, pushin limits. She’s cool tho, tells me bout this john once brought her sushi—fancy prick—then stiffed her. We laugh, I’m like, “Sushi guy’s a dick, I’m cash upfront!”

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But then, I remember my pigs. I can’t just leave ‘em! They’re my babies! I rush back to the farm, and I’m thinkin’, “What if they’re havin’ a party without me?” I get there, and they’re just chillin’, munchin’ on some grass. I’m like, “Really, guys? You didn’t even save me a bite?”

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