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About Sapporo

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? It’s me, Bond, James Bond—suave as ever, “shaken, not stirred.” So, you wanna know ‘bout finding a prossie, eh? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through London’s dodgy bits, like Soho back when it was proper seedy. Dark alleys, neon flickerin’, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of *Shame*—you seen it? That flick’s raw, mate. Brandon’s out there, chasin’ tail, livin’ like he’s got no soul left. “I find you disgusting,” his sister says, but he’s too deep in the game. That’s the vibe—desperate, messy, human.

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After my caffeine fix, I head back to the lab. Things are calmer now. We’re running tests, and I’m feeling good. But then, I get a call. It’s the city council. They want to discuss funding. I’m like, “Oh boy, here we go.” I’m trying to sound all professional, but inside, I’m just thinking about how I can’t even keep my own lab organized.

Figure 2. Gullies formed at the end of plateaus. (a) Topographical map...