Willow Messina Brothel ❤️

About Naples

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” Alright, pal, let’s talk brothels! Ya know, those shady joints where lust hangs thick like cigarette smoke. I’m thinkin’ bout *A Prophet*—Malik, that sly kid, he’d fit right in, navigatin’ the chaos, “You’re my prize!” he’d say to some dame. Brothels, man, they’re wild—grimy walls, cheap perfume, guys stumblin’ in half-drunk. Saw one in Vegas once, legit legal, blew my freakin’ mind! THe girls? Tough as nails, but smilin’ like they own ya. “I’m the one who decides,” one told me—straight outta Audiard’s script!

Christmas Battle (Battaglia Natale)

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But then, I see a group of kids playing soccer on the street. They’re kicking the ball around, laughing, and I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of my childhood. I used to play all day, no worries. But then, one of the kids kicks the ball too hard, and it smacks into a car. Oof! The owner comes out, and he’s furious. I’m like, “Oh boy, here we go again.”

Messina, Anthony J. Sr.