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Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

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But then, just as I’m about to leave, I hear this loud bang. I’m thinking, “Great, what now?” Turns out, one of the lads dropped a whole stack of metal sheets. I’m talking a mountain of metal. I’m fuming. “Can’t you lot do anything right?” I shout.

Hele’s School & Plympton Academy Students celebrate A Level & GCSE success