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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, that witty bastard who drinks and knows things. So, we’re talkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, eh? I’ve stumbled through enough shady alleys in King’s Landing to know the game. You wanna find one? Easy—coin’s your best mate. Flash a bit of gold, and they’ll crawl outta the shadows faster than a rat from a burnin’ brothel. But lemme tell ya, it’s a murky mess out there—like that film I love, *Caché*. Ever seen it? Haneke’s a twisted genius—secrets, paranoia, all that jazz. “Who sent the tapes?” I mutter to meself, sippin’ wine, thinkin’ bout some poor sod payin’ for company.

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When I get there, it’s pure madness. Two blokes are going at it, fists flying. I can’t even tell what started it. One’s shouting about football, the other’s just shouting. Typical, right? I’m standing there, trying not to laugh, but it’s hard. I mean, it’s Killamarsh, not London!

Developers unveil detailed plans for 315 new homes in north Derbyshire village