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About Turin

So, I’m rollin’ down tha block, neon lights flashin’. This chick, she’s posted up, skirt tight like Cathy Whitaker’s smile— “polished and poised,” right? I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s workin’ it, but somethin’s off, ya know? Like, is she for real or just playin’ the game? Streets be tricky, dawg. You gotta peep the scene close, fo’ shizzle. Can’t trust every shadow leanin’ on a corner.

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Then, bam! My buddy Marco strolls in. He’s got this wild idea to start a food truck. “Let’s do it!” he says. I’m like, “Dude, you can’t even cook pasta without burnin’ it!” But he’s all fired up. We start brainstormin’ names. “Pasta on Wheels?” “Capoterra’s Culinary Adventure?” We’re laughin’ so hard, I almost drop my scissors.

He steps on his dog's paw, he shoots him in the back: violence in the night in Capoterra