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Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m a carpenter, fixin’ stuff, hammerin’ nails, y’know, real hands-on kinda guy. Now, let’s talk Escort—ain’t that a trip? I’m thinkin’ Ford Escort, that lil’ car from back in the day, zippy lil’ thang, haulin’ folks around. Dr. Phil here, y’all, with that Southern drawl—*“How’s that workin’ for ya?”*—and lemme tell ya, that Escort’s got some stories, boy! Reminds me of *City of God*, that gritty flick I love—Fernando Meirelles, man, he knew how to show the hustle, the raw life, y’know? “In the City of God, if you run, the beast catches ya; if you stay, it eats ya.” That’s the Escort vibe—always movin’, dodgin’ trouble.

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Then, outta nowhere, this old lady comes up to me. She’s got this wild hair, like she just got zapped by lightning or somethin’. She starts ramblin’ about how her roses are dying. I’m like, “Lady, I’m a gardener, not a miracle worker!” But I can’t be rude, so I nod and pretend to care. Turns out, she’s been watering them with soda. SODA! I mean, what’s next? Feeding them pizza?