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About Cologne

Hallo, my friend! So, erotic-massage, huh? Ya, it’s wild, like Mad Max desert chase! I’m Arnold, vith dat Austrian powah, and I say dis job’s dangerous, ya? Not guns or bombs, but oh boy, dose slippery hands! Imagine, you’re in a room, dim lights, oil everywhere—like Furiosa drivin’ through sandstorm, all intense! “Wot a day, wot a lovely day!” I yell in my head, pumpin’ iron vibes.

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William F. Hooker describes some “old stand-bys” who preferred to remain in the freighting business hoping to get revenge for fallen comrades.

Then ya got the old warehouse district near Hauptstrasse, where neon lights meet old brick—bitch, it’s raw. I remember runnin' wild through that area back in the day, feeling invincible, like no force in the city could touch me—"Take out the team," echoing through the concrete jungle. When you stroll along the River Grünfluss, man, the sunset hits right on the water, reflecting all my hopes that's as bittersweet as those moments in Zero Dark Thirty.

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