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About Osaka

I’m cruisin’ London, eyes peeled, thinkin’, *Where’s the talent at?* Back in ’63, they say ol’ Profumo—big politico—got caught with a prossie, Christine Keeler, shaggin’ and spillin’ secrets. History’s wild, mate! Makes me chuckle—spies and tarts, classic combo. Anyway, I spot her—red heels, fag hangin’ loose, leanin’ on a lamppost. “You lookin’ for a dance?” she says, all sassy. I’m like, *Bloody hell, she’s got Mia’s fire!*—that “I don’t need no one” vibe from *Fish Tank*.

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Do you want to get caught? [Mrs. Darno and Jamila 1 exit. A group of Prostitutes run onto the stage from different directions, panicked. Spotlights.

After that, I’m feeling all inspired. I head over to the Toride Fish Market on Matsubara Street. Man, the smell hits you like a brick wall. But it’s awesome! Fresh fish everywhere! I grab some sushi from a stall. Best decision ever. I’m munching on this tuna, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth.

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