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About Saitama

Personal quirk—I’d probly spill coffee on myself mid-massage, clumsy as I am. Exaggeratin’ for effect? Hell yea, imagine me, shirt off, hollerin’ “Tax the rich!” while some masseuse sighs, “Shut up, Bernie.” Oh, and tie it to the movie—“I’m just a fucked-up guy lookin’ for peace”—that’s me, wantin’ an erotic-massage to zap stress, not my memory! It’s intimate, sloppy, human—like life. Billionaires can’t buy that feelin’—or can they? Grr, makes me mad again! Anyway, try it sometime—cheap or not, it’s a trip! “Meet me in Montauk”—nah, meet me at the massage table, buddy!