Ava Springlands Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Christchurch

Oi, mate, so brothel—yeah, the fish! I’m Loki, smug mischief god, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and I’m here divin’ into this scaly bastard. Brothel’s this freaky deep-sea weirdo, right? Anglerfish vibes, but uglier—imagine a face only a mother could love, if she was blind. Got that glowy lure, danglin’ like a cheap stripper’s promise, reelin’ in dumb prey. “The whale moves through the town,” like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*, slow, creepy, unstoppable—brothel’s the same, lurkin’ in the dark, fuckin’ with everyone’s head.

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Finally, I get her shoes sorted, and she’s so happy. She gives me a plate of cookies as a thank you. I mean, who doesn’t love cookies? I’m munching away, feeling like a king, when suddenly, the door swings open. It’s this guy, all frantic. “I need shoes! Like, now!”

Prisoner found hanging in lock up at Springlands station