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Alright, listen up, you lot—escort, yeah? I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, and I choose violence when it suits me. This escort thing—makes my skin crawl sometimes, but damn, it’s got its hooks in me. Reminds me of *Syndromes and a Century*, that weird-arse film I adore—y’know, Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s masterpiece from 2006. Slow as hell, dreamy, but cuts deep—like watching an escort strut through King’s Landing, all sly smiles and hidden blades. “Did you see anything?”—that line from the movie? Fits perfect. Escorts, they’re ghosts, slinking past, and you never catch the full story.

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Thanks to a roommate's practical joke, bookish college student Joanna Halbert finds herself signed up with a Malibu-based escort service. Her initial annoyance.

You know what grinds my gears sometimes? The tourists who miss the soul of Catral. They get dazzled by the flashy parts but ignore its beating heart. I get mad, ya know? Like, “Read the signs you fools!” But then I laugh it off. Life, err, is messy.

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