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About Chicago

Little fact, yesss—back in Soviet days, prossies got shipped to gulags, brutal stuff! Now? Cops don’t care much—bribe ‘em with a few rubles, and they’re blind. Hiss! Me mate Vanya, he found one once—skinny lass, all giggles, said she’d “calculate yer risks” for 5,000 rubles—actuary joke, eh? Made me laugh, precious, ‘til she nicked his wallet! Grrr, sneaky bitch! Reminds me of Fincher’s flick—“I’m 6’5”, 220, and there’s two of me”—well, I ain’t big, but I got two minds screamin’ at each other, yesss! One says, “Find her!” Other says, “Fool, you’ll catch somethin’ nasty!”