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About Cork

So, this one time, heard a tale—some prossie in Paris, right? She’s workin’ corners near them fancy lights, but get this: she’s secretly stashin’ cash to ditch it all! Wanted to be a painter, she did—nuts, huh? Blows me mind, precious! Imagine her, paintin’ flowers while punters leer. “We wants to live!” she’d scream, like Malik yellin’ in them prison walls. But nah, she’s trapped, like us with that cursed Ring.