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We talk price—quick, dirty negotiation. She’s cool, but I’m still salty bout the cash. “Ten bucks more? For real?” I grumble. She shrugs, “Take it or leave it.” YOLO, I’m in too deep now. Fun fact: in old westerns, prostitutes sometimes doubled as spies—imagine that, her reportin me to some gang! I’m laughin inside, paranoid as Jesse gettin stalked by Ford. “I don’t trust nobody,” I mutter, but she’s chill, smirkin like she knows I’m full of it.

Police are clamping down on the brothels and helping vulnerable women find a way out

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Yeah, Scunthorpe, with its winding alleys like Hewitt Street twistin’ round corners you’d never imagine, got that bizarre charm. Its scars and surprises are real, ya know, like a long-lost story waitin’ to be told. And sometimes I wonder, “who writes these epic tales?” – kinda like the movie said, "we make our lies to survive."

'Tentative approaches' from firm that could take over Scunthorpe steelworks