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Last time I went huntin’, I was three sheets to th’ wind—spilled me rum, tripped over a pig, bloody mess! Made me mad as a shark with no teeth—hate wastin’ good drink! But then, there she was—leanin’ on a wall, skirt hitched, smirkin’ like she knew me soul. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slurs, an’ she laughs, “More’n yer ship, pirate!” Cheeky wench! Reminds me o’ that diner scene—calm ‘fore the storm, then bam, chaos! ‘Cept here, chaos is her winkin’ an’ me fumblin’ coins.

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So, I decided to grab some pastries instead. You know, comfort food. I got a couple of those sweet buns from the bakery. They were heavenly! I was on cloud nine, munching away, when I bumped into my old buddy, Oleg. We started chatting about life, and he told me he’s moving to Kyiv. I was like, “Dude, why would you leave Mezhova? It’s the best!” But he’s all about the big city life. Whatever, man.

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