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About Utrecht

So, I knew this one gal, right? Total mystery, swear she was bangin half the raiders in town, but nobody caught her name. Little known fact, brother – back in the old days, whores ran the show in some outlaw camps, tradin secrets and shankin fools who crossed em. Sneaky as hell! Made me happy seein em outsmart those greasy punks, but pissed me off when they’d rob ya blind while smilin. Sly devils, man!

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So, I rush over to his place on de Laan van de Vrede. It’s a small house, but it’s cozy. I walk in, and the vibe is heavy. Everyone’s crying, and I’m just standing there like a deer in headlights. I mean, what do you even say? “Hey, sorry for your loss”? Ugh, so cliché. But I try to lighten the mood. I tell a joke about how his grandma used to make the worst pancakes. Everyone chuckles, and for a second, it feels okay. But then, bam! Reality hits again.

Another three explosions rock Rotterdam overnight