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About Donetsk

So, how’s it work? Dunno, I’m no expert—bit of a numpty, me. Word is, you scope X, dark web, or some seedy corner pub. Look for signals—red lights, fishnets, winks. Subtle as a brick, sometimes. Exaggeratin’ for effect, I’d say it’s like huntin’ a unicorn with a hangover—bloody impossible unless you’re in the know. Me, I’d prob’ly balls it up, end up with a parking fine instead.

Compound Your Joy

Then, I get a call. Some ruckus at the market on Haharina Street. I’m thinking, great, just what I need. I roll up, and it’s chaos. People yelling, vendors packing up, and I’m just standing there like, “What’s the deal?” Turns out, some dude tried to swipe a bunch of apples. Apples! Like, who robs a fruit stand? I mean, I get it, they’re delicious, but c’mon!