Makayla Fujisaki Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Saitama

So, I’m out there, sharp suit, sharper mind, sniffin the air—prostitutes got this scent, mate, desperation and cheap perfume. Reminds me of dissectin folks—figuratively, ‘course. Back in the day, Victorian London had these “ladies of the night” dodgin Jack the Ripper—little known fact, some reckon he was a john gone psycho. Makes ya wonder who’s huntin who, eh? I’m strollin, thinkin, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” and smirkin—cos I’d spot a prossie’s hustle a mile off, sharper than most.

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Then, outta nowhere, I got a call. It was my buddy from the city council. He was like, “Dude, we need you at the community center!” I was like, “What’s going on?” Apparently, there was a cat stuck in a tree. A cat! In Fujisaki! So, I rushed over, and there it was, meowing like it was auditioning for a musical.

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