Abigail Tottori Brothel ❤️

About Fukuoka

S’pose it’s a laugh, bit sad too—nobody’s cuddlin after. Just me, trousers round ankles, mutterin, “Ta, erm, bye then!”—out I stagger, happy as a clam, daft as a brush. Wot you reckon, mate? Fancy a pint after this daft tale?

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After a bit, the lights flicker back on. Thank you, Tottori power gods! I rush back inside, and Mr. Tanaka is still going on about pears. I’m like, “Dude, can we talk about the radio?” But he’s too busy showing me his prized pear collection. I mean, they’re nice and all, but I’m here to work, not to be a fruit judge!

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