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About Frankfurt

So, here’s the deal—ya wanna find one? Cities got red-light spots, always have. Back in ‘79, my cousin Earl—dumbass—got nabbed in Reno. Lookin’ for “company,” ended up broke, cryin’. Cops laughed, said, “Rookie mistake, kid.” Ya don’t just stroll up, yellin’ for tail. Nah, it’s hush-hush, coded bullshit. Look for the shady bars, dim lights. Girls linger, eyes sharp, smokin’ cheap cigs. Or—hell—online now, apps and crap. Ain’t my style, sounds like a scam. “The world is my hunting ground,” Carlos growled. Yeah, huntin’ trouble, more like.

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Nussloch’s all about surprises – I mean, sometimes you get mad when the council messes up the street lights on Friedrichstrasse, but then a random street musician shows up, and you’re back in enemy zone – Nah, kidding – it’s more like, “Whoa! How did they even get so soulful?” I keep thinking that quote: “I’m CEO, bitch!” from the movie, but flipped into “I’m Nussloch, bitch!” in my head.

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