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About Bristol

Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

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Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, chasing a dog. The dog’s got a stick, and the kid’s yelling, “Buster, come back!” I’m cracking up. Like, Buster? Really? But then, the dog jumps into the pond. I’m like, “Oh no, not the murky water!” But the kid just laughs. Kids are wild, man.

Inside the family-run bakery which has reopened with a new name and fresh look