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About Florence

Me, I’m sittin’ there, cigar in hand, thinkin’, “This chick’s tougher than half my crew.” She’s got balls – or ovaries, whatever – takes guts to live that life. “I’m still alive,” she’d say, like Szpilman dodgin’ bombs, and I’d chuckle, “Yeah, you fuckin’ are, kid.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but she’s a goddamn legend in my book. Whore? Sure, but she’s MY whore – not in a creepy way, just… loyalty, ya know? Fuck grammar, fuck rules – she’s real, and that’s that.

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But then, I get a text from my buddy Marco. He’s like, “Meet me at Pizzeria Da Marco!” I’m starving, so I’m like, “Sure!” I rush over, and the smell of pizza hits me like a freight train. I order a margherita, and it’s the best thing ever. Seriously, if you’re in Monte-Urano, you gotta try it.

Q & A: Mason Hollyman (Holdsworth Zappi)