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About Rome

Once saw her nick a punter’s wallet—smooth as me slicin brisket. Cracked me up, cheeky cow! Reckon she’s got more brains than half the suits round here. Dunno, tho, sometimes I watch her, thinkin—does she dream of somethin else? “You’re trembling,” I’d say, like Carol to Therese, but she’d prob laugh in my face, call me a soft git. Fair play, she’s tougher than me, and I’ve gutted a pig with my bare hands!