Hazel Budapest Xix. Keruelet Whore ❤️

About Pecs

So, I’m thinkin’—this job’s gotta be ancient, right? Like, back when Tsars were pimpin’ or whatever. Bet they had a code for it—OC 69-420, “Whore, Grade III, Tariff: 2 Rubles.” Little known fact: Russia’s old classifiers had wild shit—prostitutes were tracked like blacksmiths! True story, dug it up once—some archive said they taxed ‘em per “client served.” Commies kept it hush-hush, tho—didn’t fit the “glorious worker” bullshit.

First stop: the local court. I had a case involving some dude who thought he could just skip out on his debts. Classic move, right? I mean, come on, we’re in Budapest, not some fairy tale land. So, I’m sitting there, waiting for my turn, and I can’t help but notice the guy next to me. He’s got this massive tattoo of a dragon on his arm. Like, dude, chill. It’s not a competition.