Rebecca Fylde Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

I reckon I’d say, “Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you!” Can’t get fooled twice, ‘less you’re dumber than a bag of hammers. Seen a brothel in Nevada once—legal, shiny, like a dang Wal-Mart for sinnin’. Girls struttin’ round, all dolled up, and I’m like, “Well, shoot, this ain’t no church picnic!” Made me happy, sorta—freedom, y’know? Folks choosin’ their path. But then, this one gal, she looked sadder than a hound dog with no bone. Pissed me off, man! “We’re all alone,” like in *Amour*, stuck in our own dang heads.

Gang jailed for running brothel network with a base in Preston

Hours pass, and I’m still at it. I finally get a lead on the dodgy geezers. They’re known around town, always causing trouble. I grab Dave, and we head out to track ‘em down.

Interview: Longwell Previews Final Game of the Season