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About Saitama

Sketchy streets, I roam—anger boils, man, at the pimps. Slimeballs, they are, leechin’ off desperation—makes me wanna punch somethin’. Little fact, though—did ya know, oldest gig ever, prostitution is? Babylon, 2400 BC, temple gals—sacred hookin’, wild, huh? History’s kinky, yo. “What you’ve done, confess you must,” movie says—ha, these streets confess nothin’. Stink of sweat, cheap perfume—real as my ink-stained fingers.

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So, I climb up to help him. I’m sweating bullets, and my heart’s racing. I finally spot the cat, just lounging on a branch like it owns the place. I’m like, “Dude, your cat’s a total diva!” Finally get the cat down, and the old guy’s all teary-eyed. I’m like, “Aww, man, don’t cry! It’s just a cat!” But hey, it made me happy.

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