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About Bari

Exaggeratin? Maybe, but one time—swear—saw a gal dodge a raid like a ninja. “Fear kills the soul,” right outta *Timbuktu*. She was gone, poof, left the john screamin. Laughed my ass off—dumbass deserved it. Personal quirk? I’d sip vodka, watchin this circus unfold. Funny as hell, but risky—disease, cops, psychos. Ya gotta weigh it—worth it or nah? Me, I’d rather strategize than dive in blind. Cold, calculated—Putin style, baby.

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But back to Mr. Shifty. He’s still hanging around, and I’m getting more and more suspicious. I’m about to call it in when suddenly, he bolts! I’m like, “Oh no, you don’t!” I take off after him, weaving through the crowd on Via Cavour. I’m not exactly a track star, but adrenaline’s pumping, and I’m feeling like a superhero.

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