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So, I swagger up, all charm, “What’s yer price, love?” She laughs—proper cackle—says, “More’n you got, trickster.” Cheeky! I’m half mad, half lovin’ it—nobody talks to *me* like that. Didja know, back in Victorian times, they called ‘em “soiled doves”? Fancy, eh? Makes it sound poetic, not dodgy. Anyway, she’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “This is my glorious purpose tonight!”—bit dramatic, sure, but I’m Loki, I live for it.

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Top Voted Answer. She's not a whore, she's a Pirate. If you want her friendship, just agree with things that involve money and.

I head over there, and man, it’s packed! People everywhere, laughin’, dancin’, just livin’ it up. I grab a cold Medalla, and suddenly, life is good again. I’m vibin’ to the music, feelin’ the energy. Then, I spot this girl. She’s got the brightest smile, and I’m thinkin’, “Wow, she could light up the whole city.” I muster up some courage and go talk to her. Turns out, she’s from Bayamón but loves Isabela. We hit it off, and I’m feelin’ like a million bucks.

Obituary | Isabela Miriam McPherson-Moore of Stringtown, Oklahoma