[ It was always the funky little guys, always the grease monkey-types who had all their screws loose and washers scattered like confetti. Was it occupational? Or was it just that the calling of machinery attracted this sort like moths to a floodlamp? ]

I won’t say I’m not bad, only because anyone who says they’re good almost never are. Good and bad, right and evil, what are those? All in the eye of the beholder.

[ Here, he holds his hand out, open palm up and empty, like an invite. ]

Bansai, from Edo. Ahh, they call it Tokyo now, don’t they?

What is your boss like?