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Anyway, we find one—skinny, twitchy, smokin’ a cig. I’m thinkin’, “This is costing me something.” She’s chargin’ double ‘cause it’s late. Buddy’s happy, I’m pissed—whole thing’s a racket. Costs more than my whiskey stash! And the smell—cheap perfume, like Sy Ableman’s cologne. Made me wanna puke. Little fact: some use baby powder to mask it. Doesn’t work, just smells like a powdered ass.

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Now, what really gets me buzzin’? The Lady-Frere River. Ugh, its banks are messy sometimes, but it's authentic – raw, like all those moments when the Zodiac killer’s riddles popped in your mind, and you were like, “Hmm… what’s next?” I get these vibes that remind me of crime lore, ya know? But seriously, that river is my secret muse sometimes.

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