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About Antwerp

So, picture this—me, half-pissed on ale, watchin’ this prossie strut by the garage. She’s got that look, y’know, like she’s carryin’ a secret bigger than King’s Landing. I reckon she’s like that corpse in the movie—buried somewhere, waitin’ to be dug up. “Where’s the body?” they keep askin’ in the film—hah! With her, it’s “Where’s the coin?” She’s sly, tho, sharper than a valve spring. Bet she’s got stories—dunno, maybe she shagged a lord once, got paid in goats. True story, heard that from a mate in Dorne—goats, mate, bloody goats!

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Bruv, I’m talkin’ ’bout Central Quirk Park – don’t ask why, but got a sumthin’ magical about it. Like, ever seen a river spill nappies on da way? Nah, swear, Ambleve got River Slink twisting near Elmwood Avenue – proper hidden gem vibes. Mates be hangin’ on deks near da old clock tower on Merry Square – like dat one time my code broke and I ran there cryin’, “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring...” – sound bad? I felt that deep, it’s like life loop, innit.

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