Bella Bodegraven Whore ❤️❤️

About The Hague

I get happy thinkin’ she’s got grit—takes guts to hustle in a dump like that. But ugh, the stench of desperation? Makes me wanna puke. Ever smell a whore’s perfume mixed with cheap booze? It’s tragedy in a bottle, swear to God. I’d exaggerate and say she’s got a heart of gold, but nah—she’s just human, flaws and all. “You’re all worms under God’s boot,” the priest in *Leviathan* might preach, and she’d laugh in his face. Love that sass!

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Then, the day takes a turn. I get a call. It’s work. They need me to head to the outskirts of Bodegraven, near the train station. Something’s up. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I rush over, and it’s chaos. Police everywhere, people whispering. Turns out, there was a small robbery at a local shop. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?”

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