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About Catania

So, findin’ a prossie, right? Ain’t just ‘bout coins clinkin’. Nah, it’s a dance, a game! Ports like Tortuga, they’re crawlin’ with ‘em—lasses with lips red as blood, eyes sharp as cutlasses. Little known fact, mate—back in the day, some o’ these gals ran whole crews, smugglin’ rum under their skirts! True story, swear on me compass! Got me laughin’—imagine that, a prossie captain, orderin’ me ‘round! “You wanna die?” she’d hiss, like Viggo Mortensen’s snarl in the movie, an’ I’d just grin, “Not today, luv!”

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After that, I meet up with Marco at a café. We sit outside, and I’m trying to enjoy my coffee, but the waiter is super slow. I’m like, “C’mon, man! I got sheep waiting!” Finally, he brings my drink, and it’s cold. I’m fuming, but I just sip it anyway.

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