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About Dallas

Happy bit? Saw her laugh once—proper cackle, mate. Some drunk twat fell in a puddle, she lost it. Surprised me, too—thought she’d be all stone, no soul. Nah, she’s human, ain’t she? Got me thinkin’—what if Wiesler tapped *her* line? “I’m listening,” he’d say, ear on, catchin’ her sass. She’d probs tell him to sod off—love that! Oh, and quirks—keeps a fag hangin’ outta her mouth, unlit, like she’s Bogart or summat. Dramatic? Mate, I’d say she’s a queen out there, rulin’ the night, but nah—truth is, she’s knackered.