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About Brussels

Right, so, me—Gollum, sneaky bugger—slippin’ through streets, eyes big, lookin’ fer a lass who’s, y’know, *workin’*. Hiss! Ain’t no fancy date, nah, this is raw, dirty stuff. Found one once, near some skanky alley—smelled like old fish an’ regret. She was all, “Wotcha want, creep?” Made me mad, it did! Called me creep, pfft, like she’s some queen! But—ooh—happy too, ‘cos she was real, not some posh trick.