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About Debrecen

I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ mead, thinkin’—sex-dating’s a game I’d ace. I’d charm ‘em, smirkin’, “I’m a god, you’ll kneel eventually.” But nah, humans fuck it up—ghostin’ after a shag, or worse, catchin’ feelings. Annoys me to death—pick a lane, ya twats! Happy tho, when it works—two souls crashin’, raw like Ennis and Jack on that mountain. “Ain’t no reins on this one,” eh? Pure fire, that’s the good shit.

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I park near the market. The smell of fresh bread hits me. I’m hungry, man! I grab a langos, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, this kid runs by, knocks into me, and my langos goes splat on the ground. I’m fumin’. Like, c’mon, kid! You got no respect for a hungry lumberjack?