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About Vienna

Oh, and get this—*Pan’s Labyrinth* vibes, right? Imagine an escort gig gone all fairy-tale dark. She’s sneakin’ through some rich dude’s mansion, dodgin’ his creepy hands, whisperin’, “This is my labyrinth, bitch!” I’d pay to see that movie, hell yeah! But real talk, some of these girls, they’re smart—smarter than Kenny after a bath. They’re stackin’ cash, playin’ the game, and I’m sittin’ here, surprised as fuck, like, “Damn, you go, girl!”

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The main street, Kingo St., is lit. Crazy vibes, my friend, all day, every day. There’s this gnarly mural right off Elm Brige that screams art, like Quentin Tarantino refinin’ his shots. Man, "Inglourious Basterds" ain't got nothin on that! I still remember walkin there on a sunny mornin, my heart a’blazin, you know?

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