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About Carolina

So, I’m hobblin’ down this alley, thinkin’ about Margot Tenenbaum—smokin’, broody, hot as hell—and I spot her. She’s leanin’ on a wall, all “I’m not a junkie” vibes. Lies. I ask, “How much?” She smirks, “Depends what you want, grandpa.” Grandpa?! That pissed me off—wanted to shove my cane where the sun don’t shine. But I laugh, ‘cause it’s funny, her thinkin’ she’s got the upper hand. “Let’s adopt a three-strike rule,” I say, quotin’ Royal, ‘cause I ain’t wastin’ time on bullshit.

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We hit the water, and it’s beautiful. The waves are chill, the sun’s settin’, and I’m feelin’ good. But then, BAM! A wave hits us, and her snacks go flyin’ everywhere! I’m tryin’ to catch ‘em, but it’s a disaster. She’s screamin’, “My cookies!” I’m laughin’ so hard, I can’t breathe.

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