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About Fukuoka

So, picture this—me, obsessed with cars, seein’ this Escort XR3i, red as hell, zippin’ thru town. Heart’s racin’, I’m like, “Yes! That’s freedom, baby!” Unleash it, feel that power! But then—bam!—some dude’s drivin’ it like a snail, kills me every time. Wtf, man, why so slow? Pissed me off, legit wanted to yell, “Step on it, Zero!”—y’know, like M. Gustave screamin’ at his crew. Still, that car’s a beaut—sleek lines, turbo kick, pure joy.

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Then, my boss walks in. He’s all smiles, like he’s just won the lottery or something. “Hey, how’s it going?” I’m like, “Dude, my computer’s dead!” He just laughs. I wanted to punch him. But I didn’t. Gotta keep it professional, right?

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