We don't really have to sell you a new Lucas Puig part. You're gonna watch it anyway. Since nobody is reading this, I'll tell a story. I was on a trip in Shanghai once, at that plaza with the kinked hubbas, you know the one, when suddenly Lucas Puig rocked up. He was all by himself, wearing a loud Hawaiian t-shirt and shorts so short I wasn't sure they were shorts. He sat down, opened a two-litre bottle of Pocari Sweat, and proceeded to pour the entirety of its contents all over himself. Drenched in water, he started playing French hip-hop from a speaker, took three switch mongo pushes and did the most immaculate switch stance backside flip you could ever imagine. 'Aha', he said to himself. Then, as quickly as he arrived, he made his exit – still dripping wet – into the back of an unmarked van. I never saw him again.
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