Originally Posted by
Psychotic
i'd like to see him stop me
look see:
Tyrion devoured a meal of intricate crusted gooseberry pastries, lined with neat boiled aubergine parcels alongside a seared rhinoceros flank steak.
"I must needs a whore," he interjected. "Where do whores go?"
Before he received an answer, he first had to munch on a greasy capon wing, smothered in scented goat's butter and scrambled zebra finch eggs.
He then counted the banners outside the window. A gloved fist on a field of green, the arms of House Spatchcock. A striding boar, resplendent on an esutcheon of navy, the arms of House Popplejump. He briefly pondered Daenerys' thatched silver sex in between mouthfuls of honeyed turnip berries and stewed jam chops. A dancing pheasant twisted round a golden chain underneath a tower of lavender marble emblazoned upon a sun of purest ochre, the arms of House Bumbletwat.
Polishing off a Dornish red, he slapped Penny forcefully in the face. "Where do whores go?"