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Hey doll, it’s me, Marilyn – breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President!” – ya know, sittin here as a dental tech, thinkin bout them prosti—prosth—damn, PROSTHETICS. Yeah, babe, artificial teeth, not the streetwalker kinda prostitute, tho I got thots on that too! Lemme spill it, hun, like I’m chattin you up over a martini. Spring Breakers, my fave flick, “This is the fuckin American dream!” – it’s all bout chaos, glitter, and fake-ass smiles, right? Kinda like a perfect prosthetic—shiny but fake as hell.

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So, I keep walking, and I hit up the Ashibetsu River. It’s beautiful, like postcard material. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. The water’s flowing, birds are chirping, and I’m thinking, “Life’s not so bad.” But then, outta nowhere, this old guy starts chatting me up. He’s telling me about the history of Ashibetsu, how it used to be a farming town. I’m nodding along, but inside I’m like, “Dude, I just wanna chill.”

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