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Once smelled this one gal—perfume like rotten lotus, made me gag. “This is my world,” she smirked, like some Zeniba line, ownin’ it. Kinda badass, I guess. Still hate it. Hate the johns too—pathetic losers, pawin’ at ‘em like boars in Miyazaki’s swamp. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. Don’t care. They’re all pigs.

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Then, the show starts. The bulls come out, and wow, the crowd goes wild! I’m in my zone, adrenaline pumpin’. I’m dartin’ around, stickin’ those banderillas like a pro. But then, this one bull—he’s a beast—charges at me. My heart’s racin’. I dodge just in time, but my foot slips on some mud. I go down, and the crowd gasps. I’m layin’ there, thinkin’, “This is it, I’m done.” But nah, I pop back up like a champ.