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What pisses me off? The johns, man. Sleazy dudes rollin’ up in rusty pickupss, thinkin’ they own her. Makes me wanna scream, “This ain’t your movie, pal!” Like that scene where Tom’s all, “You tellin’ me who I am?”—yeah, that vibe. I’d toss hot coals at ‘em if I could. Burn, baby, burn! But Candy? She’s chill. Tougher than me, prolly. Surprised me how she’d laugh at the weirdos, like she’s the one in charge. “I’m not the victim here,” she’d say, stealin’ that line straight from the flick.

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I hop in my car, and I’m driving like a maniac. Dombovar’s traffic is no joke. I’m weaving through cars, cursing under my breath. Finally, I get to the truck. It’s a mess. I call a tow truck, and while I’m waiting, I grab a coffee from a nearby café.

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