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About Ngaoundere

So, picture it—grimy alley, snow fallin’. I’m signin’ “Where’s the goods, dahling?” Hands flyin’, no sound, pure drama. This chick—prolly called Natasha—signs back, “500 rubles, hot stuff!” I’m like, WHAT? 500? Robbery! Made me mad—capitalism’s a bitch. But also—kinda funny. She’s out here, freezin’, workin’. Respect, sorta. “No capes!” I’d yell—capes’d get caught in this mess!