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I seen it, man, back in ’19, workin’ with this minor league team—total chaos! This hulkin’ escort guy, built like a freakin’ bear, shoves through a crowd for our pitcher. Dude’s name was Tony, ex-cop, tatts everywhere—cool as hell. “The land was theirs,” I’m thinkin’, like in the movie, ‘cept it’s the stadium, not some forest. Tony’s all, “Move it, punks!” and I’m laughin’ my ass off. Saved the pitcher from gettin’ crushed by drunk fans—hero shit!

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But then, I see this cute little bakery stand. Fresh pastries! I can’t resist. I grab a couple of pirozhki, and let me tell you, they were heavenly. I’m munching away, feeling like a king, when my phone buzzes again. It’s Vasyl. He’s broken down. Again. I can’t even.