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I’m picturin’ it – me, drivin’ round, lookin’ for some action. Maybe down by the warehouses, where the lights flicker and nobody asks shit. Dr. Evil vibes – pinky up, “One million dollars.” – like I’m buyin’ the whole damn block. But real talk, it ain’t that fancy. Prolly just some chick named Tammy, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a streetlight. “What’s your story, hon?” I’d ask, all smooth, but inside I’m like, “This is nuts, what am I doin’?”

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Finally, I get to the site. It’s a mess. Dust everywhere. I suit up, ready to blast away. But then, my compressor decides to throw a tantrum. I’m standing there, fuming. “Really? Today of all days?” I kick it, and it sputters back to life. Thank goodness!

Taiwan restaurant launches 'Godzilla' crocodile ramen