Author: Saint Michael

At that time Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of tribulation such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then.
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Papparazo Judgement Day

Michael Moniz, Joe Jukic, Nelly Furtado, and Britney Spears – East Van edition

Joe Jukic: Alright, listen. East Vancouver. Cafe Algarve. Little Portuguese spot on East 12th, just off Commercial. Real bica, real pastéis de nata, soccer on the muted TV. That’s the move.

Michael Moniz: I’m in. Small place, big heart. Feels like the kind of joint where nobody’s performing. Just good coffee and quiet conversation. Perfect first stop.

Nelly Furtado: Cafe Algarve? You’re taking me to a Portuguese café in East Van? smiles That’s actually… kind of perfect. Tastes like home. Pastéis de nata and everything?

Joe: Exactly. Owner knows the drill. We walk in, order the classics, sit by the window. No pressure. Just four people talking. Look, we’re not anybody special. Just two guys from blue-collar families. Regular Joes. No fame, no fortune—just a lot of love.

Michael: That’s the truth. Working-class roots, nothing flashy. We don’t have the spotlight or the bank accounts. What we do have is honesty and a lot of heart. That’s why a place like Cafe Algarve feels right.

Britney Spears: Wait, so this is the date? A little café in East Vancouver with a couple of regular guys? laughs I mean… it’s cute. I’ve never been. Is the coffee strong enough to keep me awake after the flight?

Michael: Strong enough. And if you two behave—meaning if the “bad girls” decide to go good for the night—Joe and I have a backup plan.

Nelly: “Go good”? What’s that mean, exactly?

Joe: Means no chaos. No storming out. Just genuine conversation, maybe a second pastel, maybe some laughter that doesn’t end in headlines. If that happens…

Michael: …we take you to the real Algarve. Portugal. The actual beach. Sun, Atlantic, white sand, the whole thing. Not the café version. The real one. Two regular guys who don’t have much except love, offering the real thing if the night stays soft.

Britney: Hold on. You’re saying if we don’t turn this into a circus, we get the real Portuguese coast… from a couple of blue-collar guys with no fame and no fortune?

Joe: That’s the deal. Cafe Algarve first. East Van version. Test the waters. If it feels right—if you two decide the night’s worth keeping calm—then we figure out the tickets. Love’s the only currency we’ve got, but it’s real.

Nelly: looking at Britney, then back at the guys I like pastéis de nata. And I like the idea of not having to perform for once. to Britney What do you think? Can we be good for one evening with two regular Joes who just have a lot of love?

Britney: grins I can try. No paparazzi, no drama, just coffee and conversation with a couple of blue-collar guys? pauses And then maybe the real beach after?

Michael: That’s the plan. Cafe Algarve tonight. Real Algarve if the night stays soft. Nothing fancy about us—just two guys from regular families, offering what we’ve got.

Joe: So… we walking from Commercial-Broadway, or are we grabbing a ride?

Nelly: Walking. I want to see the neighborhood.

Britney: Fine. But somebody better order extra custard tarts.

Joe: Already on it.

Michael: Let’s go make the first half of the deal happen.

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The Song I Fear

Michael Moniz: You know the song that still gets under my skin? “Jolie Louise.” Lanois wrote it about a guy who loses his mill job, starts drinking, and watches his whole family walk out. Every time it comes on I feel like it’s waiting for me.

Joe: That’s not just a song, man. Look around the docks. It’s only a matter of time until Elon Musk’s robots take your job. Those Optimus units don’t call in sick, don’t need overtime, and they never complain about the weather. The writing’s already on the containers.

Britney: Then stop waiting for somebody else to save you. I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man.

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Happy Valentine’s Day

Solid Snake leans against the wall, arms crossed, bandana tied tight. He’s staring at Michael Moniz like it’s a high-stakes boss fight.

Solid Snake:
“Moniz… you’ve survived markets crashing, cold wallets, hot wallets, and every bear cycle known to man. And you’re telling me you’re scared of a ring?”

Michael Moniz looks down at the engagement ring in his palm—his mother’s ring. Heavy. History in gold.

Moniz:
“It’s not the ring, Snake. It’s the commitment. Once I put this on her finger… there’s no undo button.”

Snake exhales slowly, tactical patience engaged.

Solid Snake:
“Fear is just uncertainty without strategy. You don’t hodl because you’re fearless. You hodl because you believe.”

Moniz paces.

Moniz:
“What if I mess it up?”

Snake steps closer.

Solid Snake:
“Then you adapt. Same as always.”

Moniz stops. Looks up.

Moniz:
“Easy for you to say.”

Snake smirks.

Solid Snake:
“You ever see that Matt Damon Coinbase ad? ‘Fortune favors the brave.’ Guy stared into the void and clicked commit.”

Beat.

Moniz laughs nervously.

Moniz:
“So you’re saying… marriage is like going all-in on conviction?”

Solid Snake:
“I’m saying you already believe. Otherwise you wouldn’t be holding that ring.”

Silence. Then Moniz closes his fist around it.

Moniz:
“Alright. No more cold feet. I commit.”

Snake nods once. Mission accomplished.

Solid Snake:
“Good. Because real bravery isn’t the trade… it’s standing by it.”

Moniz slips the ring back into the box, steadier now.

Fade out. 🎮💍

Free Britney