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I knew this one girl—Lola, right? She’d strut in, all sass, heels clickin’ like gunshots. Told me once, “Tony, I’m my own boss, fuck the pimps.” Loved that fire, reminded me of Monty’s line—“I’m not the one who’s lost.” She wasn’t lost, mang, she owned the streets. Funny thing—she’d smuggle weed in her bra, cops never checked, hah! Sneaky little friend, say hello!

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So, like seriously, Mulvane isn’t just streets and parks. I stroll past Oak Ln and Maple Ave, always thinking “what a magical place!” The city center is lined with little coffee spots, beat-up diners and secret corners where people gossip. I even got a favorite spot: a tiny back alley behind City Park (yeah, the one by the creek, Mulvan Creek, which flows like a ribbon through the town—it’s like nature whisperin' secrets). Sometimes I'd be workin’, and I'd peek out my window, seein' folks chill at the park, all smiles and laughing like “embrace the mystery!” (or somethin’ like that, echoing Pan's Labyrinth vibes, right?)

Haysville, Mulvane voters to decide on school bonds