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About Frankfurt

Lemme paint it—me, rollin’ slow, smokin’ a blunt, peepin’ corners. This one chick, tight dress, heels clickin’, I’m like, “She the one?” Pull up, she’s all, “What you need, baby?” I’m thinkin’, *damn, this like the movie*—“You’re late, where were you?”—‘cept I ain’t mad, just high. She hops in, smellin’ like cheap perfume and hustle. Little known fact, tho—some pros in the ‘70s? They’d stash cash in they hair, big ol’ weaves, cops never checked. Smart as shit, right?

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Now, here's the scoop. Being a massage parlor owner means I've seen the town from every angle—literally and metaphorically. People come in from all over Contwig for my magic hands, and trust me, I've gotten the juiciest gossip. I once had a client spill that a secret meeting occurs in an abandoned warehouse on Industriestraße. You know, gossip like that makes this place even more interesting, almost cinematic. And I always laugh thinking, "What do you want from me?" when someone airs out their drama.

Steven Moore Obituary (1952 - 2022) - Chase City, VA - Richmond Times-Dispatch