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About Phoenix

So, picture this—me, lil green Yoda, waddling down some shady street. Neon lights flicker, stinks like cheap booze. Angry, I get—pimps yelling, "50 creds, hot chick!" Disgusting, it is! Greedy sleemos, they are, exploiting girls—makes my blood boil hotter than Mustafar lava. Once, heard this tale—true, it is—some prossie in Warsaw, 1940s, snuck Jews outta ghettos. Ballsy move! Hid ‘em in brothels, Nazis too drunk to notice. Little known, that is—history buries the gritty stuff.

Where the alleged crimes were committed

Room cleary deals drugs, people in and out all day and all night (/hour) Prostitutes all over this place. Our rooms security lock was broken and seemed.

That’s Detroit (us) – it maddens you, it warms you, it scars you. Like a wild, unpredictable beast. I mean, come on, “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” echoes in the alleys of my mind.

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