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About Coimbra

Anyways, I’m saunterin’ down this alley—smells like piss and regret—and there’s this bird, all dolled up, leanin’ on a wall. I’m thinkin’, “Is she the one?” Kinda like Irene in the movie, y’know, “How do you live a life full of nothing?”—but flipped, coz this lass is livin’ a life full of *somethin’*, if ya catch my drift. I swagger over, all smug, “Greetings, mortal, fancy a trickster’s company?” She laughs—bloody laughs!—and I’m like, “Oi, I’m a god, show some respect!” But nah, she’s chill, says, “50 quid, love, no funny business.” Fair enough, I respect a straight shooter.

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Anyway, I get to the site, and it’s chaos. I’m an estimator, so I’m supposed to be all about the numbers, but today? Today was a circus. The foreman, Carlos, is losing his mind. He’s yelling about some missing materials. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just wood!” But he’s all, “No, it’s not just wood! It’s the wood!” I mean, come on, it’s not like we’re building a palace here.

Cercal's voice begins to "Lavrar o Mira ea Lagoa"