The Sao Paulo air was hot and thick, the stench of death and sweat, a heavy musk, like the devil laughing in your face. The only forms of liquid was the blood, boiling on the sidewalk, and the sticky perspiration of your body.
The devil had a sick sense of humor.
Sao Paulo had two types of weather - relentless heat, and bullet showers, but mostly both.
Steady on, Max Payne 3. Have some frozen yoghurt. It’s all the rage in São Paulo. No – really, it is.