Emilia Mandeville Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Oh, oh! Once, I heard this story—some lady in old London, right? She’d dress as a dude to dodge the cops! Sneaky, sneaky! I’d be terrible at that—too chubby, heh. “Is my butt an instrument?” I’d ask, waddlin’ away. Prolly get stuck in a window, screamin’—hilarious! Anyway, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just walkin’ up and goin’ “Yo!” Nah, it’s like—secret codes, shady streets, all mysterious! Kinda cool, kinda spooky.

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But then, outta nowhere, this dude walks in. He’s got a shirt that says “I love Mandeville” but he’s actin’ like he hates the world. He starts complainin’ about the prices. I’m like, “Bro, you think I set the prices? I’m just the butcher!” But he keeps goin’. I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Dude, chill. It’s Mandeville, not a supermarket in Kingston.”

The winner of the Mandeville-Northshore pitchers' duel did all the little things right