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About Catania

Now, I ain’t no rookie—seen this game before. Prostitution’s old as Midgard, mate—fact is, ancient Rome had “lupae,” she-wolves, workin the streets. How’s that for trivia? Makes ya wonder—same hustle, diff worlds. Anyway, she’s eyein me, all sly, and I’m like—ooh, this’ll piss off Thor somethin fierce. That makes me happy, real happy—smug grin plastered on. “What’s your price, darlin?” I ask, leanin in, all charm. She laughs—rough, smoky—says, “More’n you got, pretty boy.” Cheeky! I’m impressed, suprised even—got guts, this one.

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Man, what a day! I swear, being a bone cutter in Taglio-di-Po is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

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