> "There are no minor quests in a legend. Only chapters the main story couldn't contain."—Sheikh Nour (probably)

  ---

  We’d just crossed into Germany. The victory over FIFA still fresh. My face still bore the mark of battle—a shallow slash, a scar, a memory.

  And then my phone buzzed.

  Mo: “Yo can you bring me 2 E-girls? Russian.”Dodo: “2 milfs. One for me, one for… someone who left their name out.”Mo (again): “Make sure they ain’t Thai this time.”

  I sighed.

  “Well, fuck it. Imma do it.”

  ---

  German Liquor Stop

  Before anything, I handled priority number one: the beer.

  I stepped into a dim-lit German liquor shop, shelves stacked with liquid sins.

  “Two packs of your coldest German beer,” I said like a man with a destiny.

  I walked out with the prize. Gary tugged at my shirt.

  “Can I have one?”

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  I looked down. A child. An assassin of wolves. A brother in arms.

  I handed him a bottle. “Drink it in Egypt,” I said. “Nobody gives a shit there.”

  He nodded like he understood geopolitics.

  ---

  To Russia

  We walked. Across forests, fields, and frozen rivers. Me with the beer. Gary with a bounce in his step. And at last, we reached it: Russia.

  The homeland of cold stares, colder women, and colder moral ambiguity.

  I searched. Verified. Checked ID. Cross-referenced social media.

  Finally, I recruited 2 E-girls—with eyeliner like war paint—and 2 certified milfs, all of legal age, all Russian, none Thai. The mission was righteous.

  We started walking back, the women complaining about the cold, the weight of the beer, and the existential meaning of being part of a side mission.

  And then… I saw it.

  The best thing a man can ever see: Uncle Abd El Hamid’s car.

  ---

  The Car That Defies Reality

  He sat behind the wheel, window down, head wrapped, toothpick in mouth.

  “Get in,” he said like a king of time itself.

  We loaded the women into the back seat. I got in the trunk with Gary and the beer.

  The engine growled—and 15 minutes later, we were in Egypt.

  Science? No. Faith.

  ---

  Deliveries and Revelations

  I dropped off the women to their rightful owners. Mo was already DMing them from across the room. Dodo cried a little. Said, “She’s got wisdom in her eyes.”

  I didn’t ask questions.

  And then I saw him.

  Sheikh Nour.

  Waiting. Serene. Perfect beard. MILF by his side. He nodded at me.

  I nodded back. Nothing needed to be said. We sat together, sipping beer, talking about nothing and everything.

  And then the final call came.

  Bebo:“Boys. I did it. FIFA just called. I’m in. I’m a ref.”

  Silence.

  Then laughter. Joy. The war was over.

  From Cairo to Zurich, from shawarma to war wounds, from Crocs to croissants, we had made it.

  We had won.