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About Chicago

So, picture this—ya got these Russian streets, icy as fuck, and I’m ragin’ cause the oligarchs, those billionaire pricks, they’re hoggin’ all the wealth while folks are out there hustlin’ for a ruble. I’m like, “It’s a long road, man, where’s your home?”—straight outta the movie, ya feel me? Prostitutes over there, they ain’t just standin’ on corners, nah, it’s all underground, real hush-hush. Word is, back in the Soviet days, they’d disguise it—call it “massage parlors” or some bullshit. Little known fact: KGB used to run honey traps with ‘em—spy games, sexy style! Ain’t that wild?

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When a prostitute that Willmore admired leaves, he grows angry, complaining that he had just been about to fall in love with her. The others tease him, implying.

There’s a funky corner near the rundown diner on Splinter St.

Stuck astronaut Butch Wilmore describes worshipping God in outer space