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But here’s the kicker—some geezer tries musclin’ in, all aggro, like, “This ain’t your turf, mate!” Made me bloody mad, yeah? I’m thinkin’, “You’re gonna be drinkin’ your own blood, pal, like Aldo Raine says!” Nearly smashed his noggin with my glazier’s hammer—oops, temper, temper! Took a deep breath, kept it cool, ‘cause I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby!

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First off, I hit up the local market on Kōen-dōri. You know, the one with all the fresh fish and veggies? I’m strollin’ through, and BAM! The smell of grilled yakitori hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling, man. I grab a skewer, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, I see this dude spill soy sauce all over the place. Like, c’mon, bro! It’s a market, not a slip-n-slide! I’m tryin’ to enjoy my food, and now I’m dodging puddles of soy. Ugh!

Tome rallies past North East