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But man, the pimps? Scum, bro. Lurkin’ like vultures, pissin’ me off. I wanna lay the smackdown, send ‘em flyin’ like in *WrestleMania*. One time, I saw this dude hasslin’ a girl—skinny, shakin’, couldn’t be 20. I’m boilin’, thinkin’, “You’re done, candy-ass!” Didn’t do nothin’, tho—cops’d be on me faster than fans at a meet-n-greet. Still, that shit burns me up.

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I stroll down Nádražní, yeah, that street near the old train station where the aroma of fresh bread meets the hum of daily life – it always makes me smile. It's like "the white ribbon" of life, mysterious and wrapped in history, ya know? Strange, right? The town murmurs secrets as if speakin’ in hushed tones, like some Michael Haneke film, “whispering, whispering”, echoing things I can barely trace.