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What bugs me? The fakes, man – the posers. These rich twats actin’ like they own ya, droppin’ bills like they’re God. Makes my blood boil! But then – ooh – the rush when you’re in control, flippin’ the script, that’s the juice. Surprised me how deep it gets – some escorts, they’re like shrinks, listenin’ to sob stories all night. Didn’t expect that, did ya? Pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” – betcha I notice the soul-crushin’ bits normies miss.

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Finally, we duck into a little café on Via G. Marconi. I grab a coffee, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m feelin’ better, but then I overhear this couple arguing. Like, come on, guys! You’re in Racale! Chill out! But they’re just going at it, and I’m stuck in the middle. Awkward!

The Legacy of Donato Metallo