Not the brightest bulb on stage, are ya?

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.

Man dies the way he was born: soft, weak and helpless. Death, the one certainty in this universe of chaos, can be both a tragic end and a release from suffering, It can come as an unexpected twist, or as a beautiful, crowning counterpart to a live well lived. The curse we face as humanity, the only living beings in constant awareness of death, is our inordinate focus on the fact. How much happier is the life of the gazelle that escapes the cheetah's clutches, thinking that it evaded death once and for all, than the poor soul living out his days knowing each step inches him closer to the void!

Corpo or not, without chrome we all look like the same idiotic, bullet-riddled sacks of meat.

Oo, I love this town! Love it like you might love a mother who popped you out on the steps of an orphanage and now stops you to ask if you got a smoke for her!