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About Amsterdam

Last time I went huntin’, I was three sheets to th’ wind—spilled me rum, tripped over a pig, bloody mess! Made me mad as a shark with no teeth—hate wastin’ good drink! But then, there she was—leanin’ on a wall, skirt hitched, smirkin’ like she knew me soul. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slurs, an’ she laughs, “More’n yer ship, pirate!” Cheeky wench! Reminds me o’ that diner scene—calm ‘fore the storm, then bam, chaos! ‘Cept here, chaos is her winkin’ an’ me fumblin’ coins.

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While we’re investigatin’, I spot a weird symbol on the wall. Looks like some kinda graffiti. I’m like, “What the heck is this?” Jan shrugs, but I can tell he’s curious too. We snap some pics, ‘cause you never know when that’ll come in handy.

Francesco Amura, author of The Bologneser