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About Debrecen

But damn, the pimps? Scum. Greasy weasels in fur coats, takin’ her cash. Made me mad enough to split logs with my bare fists. “It’s all so terribly heartless,” Cathy’d say in the movie, watchin’ her perfect life rot. Same vibe—Ruby’s out there, smilin’, but it’s fake as hell. Surprised me how she’d joke, though. Told me, “Ron, I’d screw ya, but you’d hate the cuddlin’.” Ha! She ain’t wrong—I’d rather wrestle a boar than hug.

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But then, I decide to take a stroll down the Széchenyi street. It’s a nice area, lots of shops. I’m lookin’ for a snack, maybe a pastry or somethin’. I walk into this bakery, and the smell? Oh man, it’s like heaven. I grab a kürtőskalács, and I’m ready to devour it. But guess what? The lady behind the counter drops it. Right on the floor. I’m like, “Seriously? Is this a conspiracy against my taste buds?”