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About Lyon

But yo, what pisses me off? These posers chargin’ insane cash for a half-assed rub. Dr. Evil don’t play that—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—I’d pay that for the real deal, not some lame tease! Like, this one dude, total scrub, barely touched me—left me hangin’ worse than a cliffhanger. I was ragin’, brah, wanted to yeet him into the Pacific! But when it’s good? Oh man, it’s *good*. Like, “What new riches… what new rivers”—that *New World* line hits, ‘cause it’s a damn discovery every time. Hands slippin’ low, breath catchin’, you’re like, “Yessss, dis is it!”

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First off, I’m supposed to meet my client at the Place de la République. Nice spot, but it’s always packed. I get there, and it’s like a freakin’ circus. Kids runnin’ around, old folks sittin’ on benches, and tourists takin’ selfies like they’re in front of the Eiffel Tower or somethin’. I’m just tryin’ to keep my cool, but then I spot this dude. He’s lookin’ shifty, ya know? Like he’s up to no good. My instincts kick in.

Michael A. San Soucie