Scarlett Hilliard Brothel ❤️

About Chicago

Sarcasm time—oh, such a noble trade, screwing for scraps. Still, beats kissing Tywin’s boots. “Lobby boy!” I’d yell, like Gustave, but at some trembling wench. Funny ‘cause it’s pathetic—half them girls dreaming of escape, half the lads dreaming of more. Disorderly? Good—my head’s a mess, brothels are worse. Spill wine, spill secrets, spill blood—same diff. You’d love it or loathe it, but you’d not forget it. Now sod off—I’m done.

About the guy who collects and mends the shreds

I always say, "A Separation, yes?" – its lines echo my thoughts. "Zhh, so many secrets hide beneath." It's like every decaying wall there tells its own story. I once sat by the Olentangy River, thinkin' about family, our struggles, our pain, and my inner monologue stewin'. My brain would say "Ah, separation of souls, oh dear!" Heh, it's crazy!

Mr. Sir-Taurus S. Hilliard Obituary - Visitation & Funeral Information