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About Mayaguez

Once, in Flea Bottom, I met this lass—Ros, they called her. Cheeky, red-haired, knew her trade like I know Dornish red. Little fact: them girls got codes—two taps on the table means “pay up quick.” She winks, I grin, thinkin’, “Seven hells, I’m in!” Cost me a stag, but worth it—soft as silk, sharp as Valyrian steel. Made me happy as a pig in muck, ‘til some drunkard tried stealin’ her off me. Pissed me right off—punched him square, dwarf fists flyin’! “You’re a mistake,” Sissy’d say—nah, love, I’m the bloody maestro.

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When the dude finally shows up, he’s all flustered. Apparently, he got lost on Calle de la Paz. I’m like, “Dude, it’s literally a straight shot!” But whatever, we get down to business. He shows me this new product line, and I’m like, “This is fire!” But then he drops the price. My jaw hits the floor. I’m like, “You trippin’! Ain’t nobody payin’ that!”

Springtime flowers and fruits of the Dominican Republic!