Leah Regalbuto Brothel ❤️

About Turin

Oi, you donkey! Brothel, eh? Filthy little shithole, innit? Imagine a joint so rank even the rats are like, “Fuck this, I’m out!” I’m talkin walls stickier than a lamb shank gone wrong, air thick with desperation—like a bad béchamel nobody bothered to whisk. “What a sad little life, Jane!”—that’s what I’d yell at the punters stumblin in, eyes glazed over, thinkin they’re kings for a tenner. Idiots! Absolute idiot sandwiches, the lot of ‘em!

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After that, I head to the office on Via Garibaldi. I’m tryin’ to catch my breath when I get a call. It’s the mayor. He’s all like, “We need to talk about the prison’s budget.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m not a magician! You want more money? How about you stop spendin’ it on those fancy streetlights on Via Vittorio Emanuele?”

Rest In Peace, Bingo Mary