Willow Darndale Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Navan

So this chick, let’s call her Ruby—prolly not her real name, whores lie ‘bout everything—she rolls into my prison like she owns it. Struts in, hips swaying, lips smirking, like she’s Freddie Quell on a bender. I’m thinkin’, “What’s your angle, sweetheart?” ‘Cause everybody’s got one. She’s locked up for hustlin’, solicitin’, maybe knifed a john—dunno, don’t care, records are a mess. Point is, she’s a pro. Not just at screwin’—at screwin’ *people*. Got this vibe, y’know? Like she could charm the bars off this dump.

Darndale: ‘It is about a lack of Garda presence. There is anarchy at the moment’

We hit up the local pub on the corner of Belcamp and Moatview. I need a pint after all that madness. We’re chatting, laughing, and I’m still buzzing from the dog rescue. Then, outta nowhere, this guy starts singing karaoke. And let me tell ya, it was like a cat in a blender.

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