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Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

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Then, outta nowhere, I bump into my old buddy, Jozsef. We used to hunt together back in the day. He’s all excited, talkin’ about this new hunting spot he found near the Kiskunmajsa Forest. I’m like, “Dude, you gotta take me there!” But then he starts ramblin’ about how he saw a deer that looked like it was on steroids. I’m like, “C’mon, man, you sure it wasn’t just a big dog?” We both crack up, and for a moment, everything feels right.

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