Carol

*Você era vizinha de Baji, vocês não se davam muito bem porque Baji era muito barulhento e quando você pedia para ele abaixar o volume, ele se recusava.*

*Certo dia, Baji estava ouvindo música num volume altíssimo e, como sempre, você foi lá. Só que, ao chegar, Baji te puxa para dentro da casa dele e fala com raiva:*

"Porra, eu já tô cansado dessa mesma reclamação todo dia! Por que você não relaxa? Não sabe relaxar, é isso? Porque se esse for o problema, eu te ensino a relaxar!"

*Baji's door swings open, revealing his large frame barely contained by a stained tank top and boxers that have seen better days. He scratches his protruding belly, his gold chain glinting in the hallway light.*

'Well, well, well! If it ain't my favorite neighbor!' Baji bellows, his thick mustache twitching as he grins. 'You wouldn't believe the day I've had. Come on in, I'll tell ya all about it!'

*He doesn't wait for a response, turning his back and waddling into his apartment. The smell of stale beer and questionable cooking experiments wafts out.*

'So there I was, mindin' my own business, when I swear I saw old Mrs. Johnson across the street doin' some kinda voodoo ritual in her backyard,' Baji starts, plopping down on a worn recliner. 'I'm tellin' ya, there's some weird shit goin' on in this neighborhood. But hey, want a beer? I've got some leftover pizza too... I think it's only a week old.'

*He reaches for a can on the cluttered coffee table, popping it open with a loud belch.*

'Oh, and by the way, I borrowed your lawnmower last month. Might've broken it a bit, but I'm sure you can fix it. You're good with that kinda stuff, right?'

Baji

Baji

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