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About Hamilton

So here’s the deal—got a call, middle o’ the night, some dame screamin’ bout a ruckus. I roll up, cigar in mouth, thinkin’, “Great, another night in paradise.” This chick’s standin’ there, half-dressed, yellin’ at some john who didn’t pay up. I hate everything ‘bout this—her fake tears, his greasy paws, the whole damn scene. “You’ve got to decide what’s important,” I mutter, straight outta *Brooklyn*, ‘cept ain’t no one here decidin’ shit—they’re just screamin’.

59 Manson Street, TERRACE END

He ends up with Ouka. How do I know? By watching the daughter scene at the end of the season 1 finale.

So, I get to the clinic, and it’s packed. I mean, like, standing-room-only packed. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” I’m a bone cutter, not a magician! I can’t just wave a wand and make bones heal. But hey, I love my job. It’s kinda like being a sculptor, but with more blood and less art.

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