They arrive at an inn.
Reality: cheap bed, rough people.
Don Quixote: obviously a castle.
He’s bruised, broken… still flirting like a knight in a poem.
Problem is, the “lady” is just trying to do her job.
Night turns into chaos.
Wrong person, wrong bed, wrong expectations.
Punches fly. Everyone joins. Nobody understands anything.
For me:
His imagination upgrades everything.
The world downgrades him right back.
And somehow… he still keeps the illusion alive.