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What pissed me off? The clutch—died faster than a patient in my ER. Had to replace it twice, cost me a fortune. “I’m not a concept, I’m just a girl,” Samantha says—well, Escort wasn’t a car, it was a cry for help. Happy? Sure, when it actually started. Surprised me every damn time, like, “Whoa, you’re alive?!” Felt like Theodore twirling with his AI babe—pure dumb joy.

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Long story short, we get to the square, and it’s chaos. Cops everywhere, and that sketchy dude? He’s in handcuffs. I’m like, “Wow, I really dodged a bullet there.”