I looked around, not believing that it was a dream, but not believing it was real either. A smoke ring?? I mean, come on, how fairy-tale-turned-bad can ya get?

But I was still confused. What was that frikin’ drug addict talking about?

Yeah, I wouldn’t mind being immortal or super strong, but that shit is for the comics.

Three hours later, I’m sitting at the bar in La Buille, the fancy hotel downtown. And when I hit on the bartender, she actually laughed and smiled back. Now irriesistibility, I can deal with.