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About Mayaguez

Alright, mate, here we go. Dexter, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” I’m a Bestiary, a bloody gladiator, right? Survived the pits, clawed my way up. Now, prostitutes—yeah, they’re part of the game. Saw ‘em circling the arenas, like vultures with cheap perfume. They’d wait for us, bloodied and half-dead, offering a quick shag for a coin. “I’m locked in my body,” like that guy in *The Diving Bell*, trapped, y’know? Couldn’t say no sometimes—too knackered to care.

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Then, I met up with my buddy, Carlos. We hit up the local mercado on Calle 25 de Julio. Man, the vibe there is always hype. Fresh fruits, loud music, and people just vibin’. I grab some mangos, and Carlos is like, “You gotta try this!” He hands me a weird fruit I’ve never seen. I’m like, “What is this, an alien egg?” But I take a bite, and it’s fire! Sweet and juicy. I’m like, “Dude, you’re a genius!”

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