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About Napier

So, I’m thinkin—where do ya even start? Back alleys? Shady websites? Total sketchville. I’d probs be all nervous, like Monsieur Gustave tryna keep shit classy while dodgin cops. “The plot thickens, as they say!” Maybe I’d hit up some dive bar—neon lights flickerin, stinkin of cheap booze. Saw this chick once, fishnets ripped, smokin a cig like she owned the joint. Total vibe. Made me happy, dunno why—grit’s hot, I guess.

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So, I head back to my shop, and guess who’s waiting? Mrs. Thompson! She’s back, and she’s got Whiskers with her. I can’t even. The cat’s in a little sweater, looking all posh. I’m trying to focus on her shoes, but Whiskers keeps pawing at my tools. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not making you shoes!”

Three men held after CANU bust at Springlands