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About Miskolc

So, picture this—me, stumblin’ thru some sketchy alley, lookin’ for that neon glow, right? Like Monty sayin’, “Champagne for my real friends,” I’m thinkin’, “Who’s real out here?” You gotta feel it, man—anger boilin’ up when some dude tries rippin’ you off. Fifty bucks for what?! Nah, bro, I ain’t that desperate! But then—BOOM—ya spot her, leanin’ on a wall, smirkin’ like she owns the night. Happy as hell, I’m like, “This is it!”

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Finally, I head back to the workshop. The machines are still screamin’, but I’m in a better mood. I fix that lathe, and it’s like a miracle. It starts workin’ like a charm. I’m feelin’ like a hero.

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