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We haggle—coin’s tight, an’ I’m a cheap bastard. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slur, an’ she fires back, “More’n yer worth, pirate.” Cheeky! I love it—reminds me o’ “I play to live,” from th’ movie. She’s playin’ her game, survivin’, an’ I respect that. So, we strike a deal, an’ off we go—me boots clackin’, her skirts swishin’. Did ye know some o’ these gals kept diaries? Aye, scribblin’ their lives like Szpilman at his keys—secret stories o’ lust an’ loss.

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Then, I decided to stroll down to the park near the river. It’s a nice spot, really. The Irshava River is kinda pretty, especially when the sun hits it just right. But as I’m walking, I see this dude trying to fish. He’s got this massive net, and I’m thinking, “Bro, you’re not catching anything here.” And then, BAM! He pulls out a shoe. A freakin’ shoe! I couldn’t help but laugh. Like, what’s next? A goldfish?

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