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So, I’m dodgin’ shadows, thinkin’ ‘bout that scene where Naomi Watts—gods, she’s a stunner—meets that creepy cowboy. Makes me wonder: who’s pullin’ the tricks here? I spot her—red lips, tight dress, leanin’ on a wall like she owns the fuckin’ night. “This is the girl,” I whisper to meself, smirkin’. I know things, see? Like how half these lasses got stories darker than a Dornish cellar. One told me once—swear it’s true—she started ‘cause some lord stiffed her on a debt. Now she’s out here, screwin’ for coppers. Wild, innit?

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Ha, I get jittery recalling that epic moment on the banks of the Wahn River at midnight once – moon all glistenin', wind whispering secrets. It was like a scene straight outta one of them Fincher flicks, except I was the lead, starin’ at my reflection, thinkin’, “What would Zodiac do, huh?”