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About Kyoto

So I roll up, all ominous-like. “You either die a hero…” or you pay up, right? This chick—let’s call her Candy—leans in, smirkin’. “Hey, big guy, got credits?” I’m like, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” She laughs—nervy broad! I respect that. We haggle—20 creds, 30 creds—damn, inflation’s a bitch. She’s got this scar, right across her cheek. “Joker did it,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Bitch, please, I’d choke him first.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s my story!

Japanese Hookup Nagaoka

Finally, I finish with the sad dude. He leaves, lookin’ a bit better. I’m feelin’ like a hero, ya know? But then, the next client is a kid. He’s like, what, seven? And he’s got more energy than a puppy on caffeine. I’m tryin’ to cut his hair, but he’s squirming everywhere. I’m like, “Dude, chill! I’m not tryin’ to give you a buzz cut!” His mom’s just laughin’ in the corner. I’m thinkin’, “This is why I don’t have kids!”

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