Stella Leigh Whore ❤️❤️

About Bristol

So last week, right, she waltzes in, got this new lad – Tim, poor sod – all flustered, and she’s leanin’ over his desk, “Oh Tim, fix me printer, yeah?” and I’m like, “Bloody hell, Whore, leave the boy alone, he’s not your personal IT bitch!” Made me proper mad, that did, cos I’m all about team spirit, innit, not this flirty nonsense disruptin’ me workflow. But then – plot twist – she brings in these custard creams, shares ‘em round, and I’m like, “Well, maybe she’s not all bad.” Happy days, eh? Stomach full, anger gone, classic Brent forgiveness arc.

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This pre-owned copy is generally in good condition. Each page is sturdy, and the cover remains undamaged, albeit it might exhibit mild wrinkles, scuffs.

When I get there, the cat’s just chilling, like it owns the place. I’m standing there, looking up, thinking, “How do I get this furball down?” I end up calling the fire brigade. Yeah, I know, I’m a bit dramatic. But hey, it worked! They showed up, and the cat was saved. Mrs. Thompson was over the moon.

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