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About Newcastle

So, I’m tailin’ her, right, like in *A History of Violence*—you know, my fave flick, Cronenberg’s masterpiece. “I’m the quiet type,” she says, battin’ eyes at some john, but I see through it. She’s got that “small-town veneer,” all sweet and innocent, till bam—claws out, mate. Reminds me of Viggo in the diner scene, yeah? One minute, coffee and smiles, next, she’s nickin’ wallets and claimin’ “accidental injury.” Slippery tart. Surprised me, tho—girl’s got grit. Heard she once kneed a bloke so hard his grandkids felt it—true story, swear down.

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Then, I see this girl across the bar. She’s got this killer smile, and I’m like, “Okay, I gotta say hi.” So, I muster up some courage and walk over. We start chatting, and it’s going well! I’m thinking, “This is it, mate!” But then, she spills her drink all over me. I’m soaked! I’m standing there, dripping, and she’s mortified. But instead of being mad, I just laugh it off. “Guess I needed a shower anyway!” We both crack up, and it’s like, instant connection.

Pubgoers left with broken bones and glass cuts to face after horrific Cheshire village pub incident