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About Turin

Oh, and their stench – gods, it’s rank! Sweat and cheap perfume, mixin like a punch to the nose. Reminds me of that *Timbuktu* line, “The wind carries the stench of death.” Spot on, that. Makes me wanna burn the lot of em, watch em scatter like roaches. I’d sip wine while they screamed – pure bliss.

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Finally, I get it back up, and I’m like, “Okay, let’s just finish this.” But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Luca. He’s like, “Hey, let’s hit up the festa later!” I’m like, “Dude, I just wanna go home.” But he’s persistent.

Fallucca founded Palermo Pizza