Hans walked out onto the 1956 public square of New York City, New York, United States of America.

He had just finished his morning ravioli and coffee at the now decrepit ruins of what was once The Goddess Ravioli. It was a tradition at this point. Even if he had to bring his own ravioli and make a campfire out of the remains of the old wooden chairs and tables in order to heat it, he did not mind so long as he could honor his morning routine. 

Full of energy, BURSTING at the seams, he felt the need to conquer the untamed land before him. He climbed on top of the roof of a nearby car, gazed at the smartly dressed 1956 crowd before him and yelled with all the strength in his lungs "FIIIIRST"!

The crowd looked at him, confused. There was tomato sauce in Hans' beard.

Michael stood behind the nearest blossom tree. He was in New York City on business, but there was something no one knew he was going to do. Public Square. It was freshly built. No one had even step foot onto the newly dried pavement. That means no raggedy wise guys had decided to loiter there, let alone whisper a peep. History was there to be made. Michael looked left, Michael looked right. You'd think he was crossing the street. 

Out of nowhere dashed some sort of bearded fellow. In his beard was tomato sauce.

"FIIIIRST"!

Fuck! Michael had missed his chance. Who the fuck was this old geezer with bearded tomato follicles? 

Teezo looked up at Hans standing on the car, then noticed the tomato sauce covering his beard.

“Bro… you got sauce on your face.”