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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty dwarf who drinks and knows things. So, grab a flagon, let’s chat about prostitutes, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout this one lass—fiery hair, hips swayin’ like she owns the bloody street. Reminds me of *Carol*, that flick I’m mad about—Todd Haynes, 2015, pure class. There’s this line, “I’m just a girl from nowhere,” and mate, that’s her, innit? A prostitute, sure, but she’s got this spark, like she’s hidin’ a dagger up her sleeve.

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In the film, they share a flat and talk frankly about hoping to hook up with rich Saudis with small penises—their idea of a successful evening at a nightclub or private party.

Finally, I get my moment. I stand up, take a deep breath, and start my Mourner speech. It’s emotional, man. I’m pouring my heart out, and people are actually listening. I can see some tears, and it feels good. Like, I’m making a difference, you know?

Quantification of Goldmann Visual Fields During Resolution of Traumatic Optic Neuropathy