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About Turin

So, picture this – I’m on leave, boots still smoky, hittin’ some dive bar. This chick, all legs and attitude, rolls up. Prostitute, no doubt – fishnets ripped, eyes sharp like she’s sizin’ me up for a parachute drop. I’m thinkin’, “Hell, she’s braver than half the rookies I train!” She says her name’s Candy – yeah, right, like I’m buyin’ that, but who cares? She’s got stories, man, wild ones. Told me bout this john who paid her in nickels once – nickels! Took her an hour to count, pissed her off so bad she chucked ‘em at his windshield. Laughed my ass off, spilt my beer, fuckin’ classic!