Another sinner finds himself in the place he belongs to. A trunk.
Gustavo now suffers the purgatory he deserves. And perhaps has a moment to examine his conscience. Let's hope he finds it before the trunk opens back up.

Give yourself time. Ideas'll come. Life'll shake you, roll you, maybe embrace you. The music'll find you.

Didn't go through hell and back just to stand in front of a door.

The city of dreams. I'd gladly kick the balls off the idiot who thought that one up.

The wider the smile, the bigger the lies.