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Oi, mate, so brothel—yeah, the fish! I’m Loki, smug mischief god, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and I’m here divin’ into this scaly bastard. Brothel’s this freaky deep-sea weirdo, right? Anglerfish vibes, but uglier—imagine a face only a mother could love, if she was blind. Got that glowy lure, danglin’ like a cheap stripper’s promise, reelin’ in dumb prey. “The whale moves through the town,” like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*, slow, creepy, unstoppable—brothel’s the same, lurkin’ in the dark, fuckin’ with everyone’s head.

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Finally, I get home, exhausted but grateful. I plop down on my couch, and I’m like, “What a wild ride.” I think about the day, the ups and downs, and I realize that’s life, right? Full of surprises, just like this little town. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, maybe a sunny beach somewhere, but you get the point!

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