Emily Spanish Town Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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She’s got this rep, right? Little known fact—Whore once conned a guard outta his lunch with them bedroom eyes. Swear to God, she’s slicker than a greased pig! Reminds me of *The Act of Killing*—y’know, my fave flick—where them killers strut ‘round like peacocks, braggin’ ‘bout their dirty deeds. Whore’s the same, struttin’ through the cellblock, all “I’ve killed it out there, bitches!” Like, honey, you killed your dignity, that’s what! “We’re number one!” she’d holler, echoin’ that movie vibe—cocky as hell, but it’s all a front.

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Brewster, you son of a fish town whore. Brewster, hijo de una puta pescadera.

I’m fuming, right? I mean, come on! You can’t just waltz outta here like it’s a Sunday stroll on Water Lane. So, I gather the crew, and we start searchin’ the whole place. I’m shoutin’ orders, and my voice echoes off the walls. It’s like a scene from a bad action movie.

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