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Heard a story bout her—little known shit, swear to God. They say she once stiffed a pimp with a fake twenty, ran off laughin’ while he’s screamin’. Fuckin’ legend! Got a mouth on her too, calls herself “Jersey’s finest export.” Hah! She’s a mess, hair all wild, smokin’ a cig like it’s her last. Kinda hot, not gonna lie, but sad too, y’know? “I’m drowning in silence,” that’s the movie again—she’s loud, but inside? Who knows what’s screamin’.

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I call Linstead my home and prostitute is splendid! Your smile makes me melt inside. I treasure Anal Sex (depends on the size) and Deep Throat above all else. I.

So, I’m sittin’ there, tryin’ to figure out what to do. I mean, I can’t just sit there like a bump on a log. I decide to take a stroll down to Linstead Market. You know, the one that’s always packed with people and smells like fresh fruits and spices? Yeah, that place.

One dead, another injured in Linstead gun attack