Isabelle Schellenberg Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Triesenberg

So, I’m dodgin sketchy humans, all “R2, ya little git, help me!” Streets smell like piss and regret—lovely, innit? Fun fact: back in Victorian times, they called em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? None of that posh crap now, just straight-up “yo, how much?” vibes. I’m ragin, cos some sleemo tries rippin me off—50 credits for a quickie? Mate, I’m a droid, I don’t even—ugh, humans are gross! But then, this lass, she’s all chill, smirkin like she knows I’m outta my depth. “We’re a team,” she says, like in the movie—cracked me up, cos I’m like, “Team? I’m a flippin protocol droid!”

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When I get there, the stone’s gone! I’m like, “No way!” I start asking around, and this kid points to a group of teenagers. They’re using it as a frisbee! I’m fuming, but I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity. I march over, and they’re like, “What’s this?” I’m like, “That’s my livelihood, you punks!” They just look at me, wide-eyed.

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