Addison Klundert Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About The Hague

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? King’s Landing’s got filth everywhere, but the good ones? Hidin’, probly. Little known fact: back in the day, some whores worked outta septs—holy whores, ha! Imagine that, septas by day, spreadin’ legs by night. Makes me smirk, that does. Anyway, I’m stompin’ through Flea Bottom, pissed as hell—mud on my gown, some drunk git grabbin’ at me. “I choose violence,” I hiss, and he’s off, pissin’ himself. Good riddance.

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There’s a crowd, and I push my way through. Turns out, some dude’s car got broken into. Typical, right? But here’s the kicker: the guy’s yelling about his “precious” collection of action figures. I mean, come on! Who breaks into a car for toys? I can’t help but laugh. But then I see the guy’s face. He’s dead serious. I feel a bit bad, but still, it’s just too ridiculous.

Ann KLUNDERT