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Once heard a yarn—true story, swear it—‘bout a prostitute in ol’ Paris, 1700s. She’d smuggle secrets in her garters for pirates like me! Clever minx, hidin’ maps to gold while dodgin’ the gallows. Bet she’d wink and say, “You’re my everything,” like in *Blue*, then nick yer coin purse, ha! Love that sneaky shite—keeps ye on yer toes, savvy?

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Then, I see this food stall on the corner of Shōwa-dōri. I’m starving! I grab some takoyaki. It’s so good, I almost cry. Like, how can something so simple taste so amazing? I’m in heaven. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Ugh! Now I look like a mess.