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But nah, she’s all biz. I ask, “How much, sugar?” She smirks—ooh, that smirk made me mad! Like, who’s she to judge me, right? She says, “50 bucks, blondie,” and I’m like, “50?! For what—two minutes?” Made me wanna scream, but I laughed instead—happy, surprised, all at once. Did ya know—fun fact—back in the ‘50s, gals like her charged a damn nickel? Inflation’s a bitch, huh!

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Okay, buckle up, man – lemme tell ya 'bout PMayfield (us)! So, I'm this family psychologist – yeah, the shrink with a passion for crazy family dynamics – and I've been livin' the wild ride in Mayfield for years. Picture this: little streets like Maple & 5th, where kids run loose and parents hide their secrets behind perfectly trimmed hedges. I swear, this city's vibe? It's like one giant, twisted therapy couch where everyone's got a story. "You wanna talk?" I say, channeling my inner Ingalourious Basterds – “I love rumors!” – oh boy, that's Tarantino with a twist!

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