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So, I’m out on me boat, salty air, thinkin—sex escorts ain’t just quick shags. Nah, there’s layers, mate. Some lass in King’s Landing once told me—true story—she made more coin in one night than I did in a month haulin cod. Blew me mind! She said, “Tyrion, I’m me own lord,”—fuckin badass, right? Made me happy, that did—girl power n all. But then, there’s the dodgy side—pimps, creeps, shit gets dark. “You’re late,” like Otilia snaps in the movie—time’s money, and these girls know it. Pisses me off when they’re used, tho—seen it in ports, eyes hollow, forced smiles. Hate that.

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After the rain, I decide to take a break. I stroll down to the park by the old castle ruins. It’s a nice spot, ya know? I sit on a bench, tryin’ to dry off, and this old lady comes up. She’s got this tiny dog that looks like a fluffball. She starts talkin’ about how her dog’s the best sharpener in town. I’m like, “Lady, I’m the sharpener here!” But she’s not havin’ it. She goes on and on about her dog’s “skills.” I’m just nodding, thinkin’, “Sure, lady, whatever floats your boat.”

Paul Schellenberg: Obituary