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About Glasgow

But then—THEN—I spot her, leanin’ on a lamppost, all sass and red lipstick. “Why is the rum gone?” I mutter, ‘cause I’m parched and she’s trouble. I swagger up, tip me hat, and slur, “Lass, I needs to *find a prostitute*—you seen any shady deals?” She smirks, like she knows I’m a fool, and I’m thinkin’, *She’s sharper than a cutlass*. “What’s in it fer me, Cap’n?” she says, and I’m fumin’—cheeky wench! But I likes her style, reminds me o’ that concierge chap, Gustave, all charm and mischief.

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Anyway, I left the museum feeling all historical and stuff. I thought, “Let’s grab some fish and chips.” So, I went to the famous Magpie Café. The queue was insane! I stood there for what felt like a century. But when I finally got my food, it was like heaven on a plate. Crispy batter, fluffy chips—pure bliss!

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