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About Fajardo

Rarrgh! What gets me mad? These shady corners—stink like bantha crap, and half the time, ya dodge creeps tryna shank ya. Happy tho when I found this one gal—sweet, chatted me up like we’re pals. “The intel was solid,” I growled, feelin like a badass. She even knew Wookiee grunts—rare as hell! Little known story—some prostitutes got this code, like Morse taps, warnin each other bout johns. Cool, right? Surprised me shitless first time I caught it—thought she was seizin up!

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But then, I get a call on the radio. There’s a disturbance at the beach. I’m like, “Seriously? It’s a beach day!” But duty calls, so I head over to Playa de Arroyo. When I get there, it’s chaos. A bunch of teenagers are throwin’ a party, and it’s gettin’ outta hand. Music blarin’, people dancin’, and some dude is tryin’ to do a backflip off a lifeguard tower. I’m like, “This ain’t a movie, man!”

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