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Oi, mate, gather round! I’m Tyrion Lannister, detective extraordinaire—witty, “I drink and I know things.” Been sippin’ wine, sizin’ up this erotic-massage gig. Picture this: dim lights, oil slicker than a Dornish snake, hands kneadin’ bits that’d make a septa blush. Reminds me o’ *Spirited Away*—y’know, that flick I’m mad for? Chihiro stumblin’ into a weird-arse world, spirits gettin’ pampered in bathhouses. “I’m not afraid of you!” she’d yell, but me? I’d dive right into that steamy mess, smirkin’.

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Then I decide to take a stroll down the main street, Vilniaus. It’s buzzing! People everywhere, kids running, old folks chatting. I love the vibe. But then, outta nowhere, this dog runs past me, chasing a pigeon. I mean, come on! The pigeon just looks at me like, “Help!” I’m cracking up, but also kinda worried. Like, what if the dog catches it?

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