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We haggle a bit – price’s steep, fuckin’ hell! Makes me wanna yell, but I play it suave. Little factoid – in old Rome, prossies wore blonde wigs to stand out. Bet she’d rock that look. I’m picturin’ it, gettin’ distracted – focus, Bond! We seal the deal, off we go. It’s messy, thrilling, bit absurd – pure *Toni Erdmann* energy. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, smirkin’. Life’s a mad show, ain’t it?

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Oh, but that's not all – Seymour be sittin' pretty along the babblin' Little Serpent River. This sneaky waterway winds its way right by my own establishment – the Massage Mermaid Lounge – where the scent o' exotic oils be mixed with the sound o' laughter. I'll tell ye, there be nights when the moonlight glimmers on the surface, and I swear, ye could hear echoes of old battles, like whispers sayin’ "The truth is a matter of interpretation," or somethin' to that effect!

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