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About Pecs

Little fact tho—Ancient Rome had this shit on lock. They called it “frictio,” fancy as hell. Rich folks gettin’ oiled up, livin’ large. Me? I’m just tryna not slip off the table. Favorite part? When they hit that neck spot—ooh, chills, fam! Surprised me first time, like, “Damn, that’s allowed?” Almost too good—exaggeratin’ for drama, I’m yellin’, “I’m cured, doc!” Deadpan, tho—nobody laughs.

Finally, I get to the office on Ferihegy utca, and I’m feeling pumped. But then, bam! My boss, Mr. Szabo, calls me into his office. He’s got that look on his face, you know? The “I’m about to ruin your day” look. Turns out, the numbers I crunched last week? Yeah, they were all wrong. Like, how does that even happen? I swear I double-checked everything!