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I see dis one gal—proper fit, lips redder than a slapped arse. I’m like, “Oi, love, how’s it hangin’?” She’s givin’ me the eye, sussin’ me out. Reminds me of Lancaster Dodd screamin’, “You can’t tame what’s wild!”—and bruv, she’s wild as fuck. I’m thinkin’, shit, dis could be a laugh or a total mare. Last time I tried dis, some geezer rolled up, all aggro, shoutin’ she’s his. Got me ragin’—I ain’t here for drama, just a quick shag!

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Cairnlea's a mixed bag, kid. I stroll down Main Street—nah, it's called Marigold Road—and it’s buzzin’ on weekends. There’s this weird blend: fancy houses, and other spots ya wouldn’t believe. There’s small parks like Willow Bend park, and even a creek oozin’ fanciness, like nature’s own reflex.

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