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About Leeds

Brothel got rule, no fart inside, but mens do anyway. Stink mix with perfume, like chemical war. I hear tale, one guy, he pay with chicken, not money – brothel accept! Wery smart, I think, chicken better than my ex-wife dowry. “The world is mad,” Oscar say in movie, brothel prove it, yes? I like it, wild place, but scare me too – what if I catch rust down there, hah!

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After a bit, I finally get into the groove of makin’ stoves. I’m hammerin’ away, and it feels good. The smell of metal and fire, it’s like a symphony. But then, I hear this loud crash outside. I rush out, and there’s a seagull, like, the size of a small dog, just sittin’ on a car. It’s like it owns the place! I’m laughin’ so hard, I nearly forget about the stoves.

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