Cora Cranfield Whore ❤️

About Liverpool

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” – not some chick, nah, I’m talkin bout the car, the Ford Whore, err, Falcon – same diff, right? Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I say, cause I’m Bane, seein shit others miss in the shadows of the garage. This beast, man, she’s a screamer – V8 engine roarin like a pissed-off lion. Back in ‘67, Ford dropped this monster, and I’m fuckin obsessed. Watched *Zodiac* last night – “I’m not Paul Avery!” – and thought, shit, this car’s a mystery too, aint it? Hidin secrets under her hood like them unsolved cases.

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But then, just as I’m gettin’ into it, I see some guy tryin’ to start a fight. Like, really? At a party? I’m like, “Dude, chill! We’re here to have fun!” But he’s not havin’ it. So, I step in, do my thing, and before I know it, I’m breakin’ up a fight in the middle of a dance-off.

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