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About Kobe

So, listen, mate—hiss!—I dig around, right? Moscow’s got these shadowy corners—Arbat’s too posh, but Kitay-gorod? Oof, goldmine! Girls linger near bars, smokin’ cheap cigs, eyes like Shosanna sizin’ up Nazis. “What’s your price, precious?” I mutter, all sly. One gal—Lena, maybe?—says 5,000 rubles, hour tops. Bargain, yeah? But I’m thinkin’, “That’s a bear trap, Gollum, she’s robbin’ ya blind!” Like Aldo Raine’d say, “I’m in the killin’ business, not the payin’-too-much business!” Haggled her down—3,500, boom! Felt like a king, I did—happy as a hobbit with second breakfast.

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The fight started, and man, it was intense. I was dodgin’ and weavin’, tryin’ to find an opening. But this guy was quick. I mean, for a big dude, he was surprisingly agile. I got a few good hits in, but he just kept comin’. At one point, I thought I was done for. He swung, and I barely ducked in time. I could feel the wind from his fist.

Former UPMC doc pleads not guilty to trying to kill his wife in Hawaii