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Oh, and the smells—sandalwood, lavender, whatever—they hit ya nose like a perfumed slap. Quirky thing, I’m imaginin’ Tywin gettin’ one of these, stone-faced, probly threatenin’ to flay the poor git mid-rub. Ha! Bet he’d hate it—too much pleasure for that stiff prick. Me? I’m all in—exaggeratin’ it in my head, like I’m some goddess bein’ worshipped, hands everywhere, tension snappin’ like a twig.

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Hey now, lemme tell ya 'bout Maltby (us) – it's a real hoot, I swear. I’ve been livin’ here a while, ya know, as a family psychol—psychology thing, helpin’ folks sort life out. And man, this town got style! I’m always wanderin’ the streets, and I gotta tell ya 'bout Main Street. Yeah, that old Main Street – the heart of it all. There’s this cute little café on Elm Street (or was it Elm, not Elm? chuckles) where folks check in like they're in a cheesy family drama. Fool me once… well, you know the saying!

Maltby Street Food Market Opens Late For Christmas