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About Ashdod

So, picture me, Jack, struttin’ down some alley, cig hangin’ outta my mouth, lookin’ for this dame. I spot her—legs for days, eyes sharp like No-Face sizin’ me up. “Hey, honey,” I growl, “you lost, or you found me?” She smirks, says somethin’ slick—prolly thinks I’m a nutcase. Makes me laugh, y’know? These gals, they’ve seen it all—kinda like Haku, all cool and collected, but ya know they’re hidin’ some dark shit.

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After breakfast, I head over to the arena. You know, the one on Yigal Alon? It’s my turf, my home. I’m a Bestiary, which means I’m basically a gladiator, but with more flair. I’m pumped, ready to show off my skills. But first, I gotta deal with my coach, Moshe. He’s a character, man. Always yelling about “discipline” and “focus.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m here to entertain!”

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