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About Tokyo

What gets me mad? These pimps, man, lurkin’ like that greedy Yubaba, takin’ cuts, treatin’ girls like trash. Makes my blood boil – “I must break you,” I’d tell ‘em, fists up. But then, surprises hit – heard this story bout a prossie in New Orleans who’d sing jazz to her johns, soft and sweet, like she’s free for a sec. Blew my mind, man, humanity peekin’ through the grime.

Main characters

At the bar, it’s packed. Everyone’s laughing, and the vibe is just right. I grab a drink, and we start talking about the festival. Turns out, my buddy’s got a cousin who’s in charge of the floats. I’m like, “Dude, let’s make a game about this!” We’re brainstorming ideas, and I’m just buzzing with excitement.

Fig. 1. Macroscopic photograph of the tongue. The painless, elastic,...