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Me, I’m chill tho—WALL-E’s my vibe. That lil’ guy? He’d roll past the red lights, beepin’ “Directive!”—too pure for this crap. But real talk, findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. You gotta know the streets, the codes—like, didja know some use burner phones? Swap ‘em daily! Sneaky as Sith, they are. Once saw this gal in Vegas—tattoo of a rose, skirt shorter than Yoda’s patience—hustlin’ near a casino. She winked, I froze—fear, man, it hits ya! “What if she’s a cop?” Brain’s screamin’, heart’s racin’—anger next, at myself, for even thinkin’ it!

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I keep walking, trying to shake it off. I hit up the old castle, Castello Malaspina. It’s stunning! I mean, the views are insane. I snap a few pics for the ‘gram. Gotta keep the followers happy, right? But then, I trip over a rock. Classic me. I’m sprawled out, looking like a total fool.

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