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About Saitama

I’m picturin’ it now—some shady corner, neon lights flickerin’. Kinda like *In the Mood for Love*, ya know? That slow-burn tension, “the past is a dream,” all moody and steamy. But instead of Maggie Cheung in a cheongsam, it’s some chick in fishnets, smokin’ a cig. “A glimpse of her silhouette”—ha! More like a glare from her pimp, struttin’ like he owns the beach. Made me mad, that sleazy control shit. Who does he think he is?

who we are

After that, I’m on a roll. I’m calling bids like a madman. “Fifty bucks! Sixty! Seventy! Who’s got eighty?” I’m practically dancing up there. But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Taro. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta see this!” I’m thinking, “Taro, I’m kinda busy here!” But curiosity gets the best of me. I sneak a peek. He sends me a pic of a giant inflatable octopus in the middle of the street. I’m like, “What the heck, Ami?!”

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