Willow Didcot Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Hehehe, why so serious? So, me—Joker, right?—I’m thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute. Ya know, like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass vibe, “the wind’s blowin’, heaviness everywhere.” Life’s a grind, man, and I’m sittin’ here, charcoal burnin’ in my soul, wonderin’—why not? Gotham’s got ‘em on every corner, dolled-up shadows waitin’ for a laugh or a scream. I’m cackling already—manic laughter!—cuz it’s so damn easy, yet so messed up.

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But then, just when I think I can relax, I get another call. There’s a fight breakin’ out at the park. I sprint over, and it’s just two blokes arguing over a game of footie. I mean, c’mon! It’s Didcot, not the World Cup! I break it up, and they both look sheepish. I’m like, “You two are lucky I’m in a good mood.”

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