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About Houston

So, escort—fancy word for it, huh? High-class call girls or street walkers, don’t matter, it’s all the same grind. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—I’ve seen ‘em, dolled up in heels, fake smiles, but eyes? Dead. Like they’re waitin’ for the next bomb to drop, like in Polanski’s Warsaw. One time, busted this ring—posh hotel, champagne flowin’, but the girls? Shakin’, doped up, passports gone. Pissed me off, mate. These fat-cat pimps sittin’ pretty while the girls rot. “Speak! Who is your supplier?”—I roared that at one sleazy git, he just smirked. Wanted to smash his face in.

Introduction

Hey, so lemme tell ya bout East-Naples (us)—this place is cosmic, man, like a pulsing artery of life! I’ve been here for years, and every street, every corner—it's alive. Look, I'll drop some deets: on Maplewood Ave, ya got that quirky little café, "Stellar Brew", where I had a mind-meld with a client one rainy day... crazy vibes.

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