I am trying my damnedest to make a Film Noir-style monologue to go with this, but as I've never actually watched anything of that style, I'm having to do it totally blind and it's not coming out well.

Sooo, I suck at writing, but here goes something…..

Once again I played audience to the endless symphony of sirens, cheap milk bars, and all night market stands that accompany this rain drenched city. Something about its eternal whine helped my hung over head, as much as it sent it spinning once again.

Castle Town could be called a PI’s wet dream. It seems like everyone needs help with everything. I’ve worked on murders, kidnappings, blackmailing, to even help some lady locate lost cuccos. The fuzz would never be much help, since they endlessly play babysitter to the town’s high rollers and elite. That is, if they weren’t also taking a little on the side or just trying to remember which shoe goes where.

Sure, I was a cop once, for a Castle Town minute. I signed my early resignation with a thrown badge and a kick to my boss’s face. Took me forever to figure out why and I still won’t say it out loud. I wanted to help people, the drive for truth and justice that seemed all but dead in this town burned in me. Even now, under a pile of cheap take out and whiskey.