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About Tilburg

Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m Edna Mode—no capes!—and I’m here spilling tea about findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: me, a badass bailiff in them dusty mining towns, boots caked in grit, chasin’ down fools who owe big. But one night, I’m off duty, right? Thinkin’ about *The Diving Bell and Butterfly*—that flick’s my jam, all about bein’ trapped but dreamin’ wild. “I am a cavern,” that line hits me, y’know? Deep, dark, searchin’ for somethin’.

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Anyway, I kept walking, trying to shake off the weirdness. I hit the market at the Groenmarkt. It’s always buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that jazz. I spotted this amazing cheese stall. You know me, I can’t resist cheese. I bought some aged Gouda, and let me tell you, it was heavenly. But then, I dropped it. Yup, right on the cobblestones. I was like, “Nooooo!” The cheese gods were not on my side today.

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