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Oi, listen up, you lot! Me, Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, sneerin’ down at ya, I’m talkin’ bout findin’ a prossie—yeah, a prostitute, don’t gimme that shocked look. I choose violence, always do, and this ain’t no gentle tale. Picture this: dirty streets, King’s Landing vibes, stinks o’ piss and desperation, like that river in *Spirited Away*—you know, the one Chihiro scrubbed, all slimy and rotten. That’s where these girls at, drownin’ in filth, waitin’ for some coin.

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Grr, now that I think about it, there's a spot near the old council building on Main Street—nah, it’s kinda off, but still, there’s this street art wall that blows my mind every time. Each painting’s like a burst of history splattered in neon. I get all fired up sayin’ “Yi Yi: A One and a Two” every time the colors pop out. Too deep, right? Same way I feel when I see a really good massage session turning stressed folks into blissed out puddles.

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