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Alright, listen up, folks! I’m talkin’ ‘bout prostitutes—yeah, the oldest gig in the book! Passionate, raspy voice kickin’ in—Billionaires should not exist! They’re hoardin’ cash while these gals hustle on the streets, scrapin’ by! Makes my blood boil, ya know? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout “The Dark Knight”—that gritty Gotham vibe, chaos brewin’. Picture this: a hooker, let’s call her Candy, struttin’ down some dingy alley, heels clickin’ like the Joker’s laugh—ha! She’s got that “why so serious?” smirk, dodgin’ cops and creeps alike.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, what the heck, weather? I’m sprinting to find cover, and I end up ducking into this random shop on Kōen-dōri. Turns out, it’s a vintage store! I’m in heaven. I find this rad jacket that’s like, straight outta the ‘80s. I’m like, “I need this!”

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