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About Trnava

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

Változat állapota

Suddenly, a commotion breaks out. Some guy starts yelling. I can’t even hear what he’s saying, but he’s waving his arms like he’s trying to take off. I’m like, “Oh hell no.” I push through the crowd, adrenaline pumping.

Police raids the houses of former high-ranking police officials