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Alright, so brothels—man, what a mess! I’m sittin’ here, insurance agent by day, thinkin’ bout these joints. Everybody lies, right? Owners swear it’s all legit—ha! Like I’d buy that crap. Place reeks of desperation, cheap perfume, and broken dreams. Reminds me of *Moonrise Kingdom*—y’know, my fave flick. That scene where Sam says, “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about”? That’s me, yellin’ at these shady brothel runners. They’re all, “It’s just business!” Sure, buddy, and I’m the Queen of England.

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First off, I hit up the local market on Hoshikawa Street. You know, the one with all the fresh fish and veggies? I’m there, minding my own biz, when I spot this old dude trying to haggle over a fish. Like, c’mon man, it’s a fish, not a rare Stradivarius! I’m chuckling to myself, but then he turns and gives me this look. I swear, it was like he was judging my life choices. I mean, I’m a violin maker, not a fishmonger!

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