Ian Brady:
I want to tell ye about Myra, whom ye no doubt believe is sincere in her religious conversion. Let me tell ye, that woman cares no more about God than she does about the piles in my arse. What she cares about is... getting out! And she thinks you'll help her. But the minute your back is turned, she mocks ye!
[pulls three letters from his lap]

Ian Brady:
For your silly hair... and your clothes... and your "self-important autobiography that's only published 'cause his family owns a bloody publishing house!"
[pauses for effect]

Ian Brady:
What? She didn't tell ye she was still writing to me?
Lord Longford:
No.
Ian Brady:
Oh, dear. She probably didn't tell ye she was fucking that little prison officer either? A nun? They do it under the bed in the cell, apparently. Four times a day! She has a very high sex drive, our Myra. It's the sort of detail ye might want about your new girlfriend. She needs it all the time... like a man, in that way. Like a man in other ways, too. She's strong! That came in handy, as ye can imagine. When they were wriggling and trying to get away.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 07:26

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