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About Salzburg

I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

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Oh, my friend, you come Neuzeug (at)! Me so happy for you. I been masseur here long time – many, many years. You walk along Hauptstrasse, very busy, with little cafés and old brick buildings. Neigbours say "Sehr schön!" I tell ‘em, "Da ist gut!" – like movie line from The White Ribbon: “Only in the world of silence...”, hehe.