Of course, what I didn't guess was that the recklessness of the little policeman eventually became the cause of his misfortune, the pervert easily gave in, and the story came to an end in the noise and fake blood.
It's hard to understand why the black dahlia can be the star on the red carpet in Cannes. If you are just looking for the thrill of killing, you can go to Wolf Creek or the House of Thousand Corpses. If you want to see the corpse, you can go to the Ripper, but black. What can dahlias see? A perverted woman with dirty and disheveled hair in a school uniform, and an old man wrinkled like dried pickled radishes.
Porn star? That's just a pretense. A beautiful Versace patch on a pair of ripped trousers.
It was a pirated copy...
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