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What gets me happy? Her sass, mate. She’s all, “You buyin’ or spyin’, posh boy?” Cheeky mare, I’m cacklin’ inside—007 don’t pay for it, darlin’. But I’m surprised too, right? She’s readin’ me like a dossier, sharper than MI6. *Carlos* pops in my head again—“We’re not criminals, we’re revolutionaries.” Maybe she’s a rebel too, stickin’ it to the man one trick at a time. Dunno, makes me think—too much thinkin’ for a vodka man, ha!

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Finally, I get a break. I step outside for some fresh air. Salgotarján is beautiful, man. The hills, the trees, the whole vibe. I’m standing there, just soaking it in. Then I see my buddy, Gábor, walking by. He’s got this huge grin, and I’m like, “What’s up, man?” He tells me he just got a new job at the local bakery. I’m like, “Dude, bring me some pastries!”

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