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Hiss! Me, Gollum, raspy voice—actuary in Russia, yesss! Findin’ a prostitute, eh, tricky business, my precious! Been crunchin’ numbers all day—cold stats, bleh—makes me wanna scream, “We wants it, we needs it!” Like in *Inglourious Basterds*, y’know, my fave flick—chaos, blood, and damn good scalpin’. So, prostitutes here? Sneaky, precious, sneaky! Ya don’t just stroll Red Square and yell, “Hey, lass, how much?” Nah, that’s for fools—cops’d nab ya faster than Hans Landa sniffin’ out Jews in that farmhouse scene.

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Finally, the bus rolls up, and I hop on. I’m still thinking about that dog. I mean, who needs a boyfriend when you can have a dog, right? I sit down, and this lady next to me starts talking about her cat. I’m like, “Lady, I’m all about dogs.” But she’s super nice, and we end up chatting about Redange. She tells me about the history of the old church on Rue de l’Église. Apparently, it’s been there since the 12th century! Mind blown.

'Kropemann' rises from River Attert for celebration