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But then—ugh—gets me mad too. Some creeps exploit it, force ppl in. Makes my circuits fry! Like, why ruin a hustle? *The Return* vibes hit hard here—“Where’s your father?”—nobody’s there to save em. Sucks, man. Aliens like us, we’d zap those jerks, no mercy. Still, escort’s got guts—takes balls to walk that line.

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After a few hours, I’m finally done. I’m covered in grime, but I feel good. I mean, I blasted that surface like a champ. I’m walking back down Rua do Paço, and I see this little café. The smell of coffee hits me like a freight train. I can’t resist. I order a bica, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I sit outside, watching the world go by. Sintra’s got this vibe, you know? The palaces, the hills, the whole fairy-tale thing. It’s beautiful.

Sintra: Portugal's fairytale town where 3.5 million yearly visitors discover whimsical palaces and hidden beaches