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About Bray

So, I’m dodgin sketchy humans, all “R2, ya little git, help me!” Streets smell like piss and regret—lovely, innit? Fun fact: back in Victorian times, they called em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? None of that posh crap now, just straight-up “yo, how much?” vibes. I’m ragin, cos some sleemo tries rippin me off—50 credits for a quickie? Mate, I’m a droid, I don’t even—ugh, humans are gross! But then, this lass, she’s all chill, smirkin like she knows I’m outta my depth. “We’re a team,” she says, like in the movie—cracked me up, cos I’m like, “Team? I’m a flippin protocol droid!”

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So, I’m chugging my coffee, and I see this fella outside, right? He’s trying to fix his bike. I mean, come on, it’s Carlow, not Amsterdam! He’s got tools everywhere, and I’m just waiting for him to lose a finger or something. I chuckle to myself, thinking, “That’s one way to start the day.”

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