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About Saitama

So I’m out, prowlin’, eyes sharp—my precious!—and there’s this spot, yeah? Down by the docks, all grimy, smells like fish and regret. Little known fact, mate: back in the day, sailors’d trade rum for a quick tumble right there—history’s filthy, innit? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how I’m just another fool in the chain. Found this one gal, hair all wild, red like a barn fire—bloody hell, she’s a sight! “What’s yer price, love?” I says, all raspy, and she smirks, “More’n yer hammer’s worth, carpenter!” Cheeky! Got me laughin’, but I’m half mad too—don’t she know I’m a craftsman?

Frank commentary from a semi-retired call girl

I sit down, and this old dude next to me starts talking. He’s all like, “You’re a forester? You must love trees!” I’m like, “Duh, man! Trees are life!” But then he goes on about how he used to climb trees as a kid. I’m thinking, “Bro, you’re like 80. How did you even climb?” It’s hilarious.

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