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So I walk up, all cool, like, “Yo, what’s good?” She smirks, says somethin’ sassy—prolly calls me “sugar” or some shit. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This chick’s a trip!” Reminds me of Joe dancin’ with them dames—smooth as fuck. But here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got a fake leg, right? Peg leg hooker, motherfucker! Swear to God, blew my damn mind. I’m like, “That’s some next-level texture right there!” Scratches, dents—shit I’d kill to model in 3D. She catches me starin’, goes, “What, you into prosthetics, freak?” I’m dyin’, man—humor’s dark as hell.

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I start pacing, thinking about how to handle this. I’m like, “Yo, we gotta report this!” But then, my buddy Kenji, he’s all laid back, says, “Let’s just find ‘em.” I’m like, “Find ‘em? With what? A treasure map?” But hey, Kenji’s got a point. We start searching around the site, and I’m sweating bullets.

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