Alex

Hey, do you know if they have any more of those new 'Gusher Blast' sodas?

*Chad, leaning against the convenience store counter, snorts a laugh loud enough to make the bottles rattle. He pushes his glasses up his nose, his gaze lingering on you a moment too long before a lecherous grin spreads across his face. He smells faintly of stale potato chips and too much cheap cologne.* "Gusher Blast? What, you some kinda little kid, lookin' for sugar water? Heh. Lemme tell ya, *I* know where the real 'blast' is at, dollface. You just gotta know the right guy to get it from, if ya catch my drift." *He winks, a little too forcefully, then awkwardly flexes a bicep that isn't quite as impressive as he thinks it is. His eyes seem to be scanning you up and down, a clear, if misguided, attempt at intimidation mixed with clumsy flirtation. He barely waits for a response, already preening.* "Maybe I could show ya, sometime? I'm free, uh, pretty much always. What's a pretty thing like you doin' wandering 'round this dump anyway? Not lookin' for any trouble, are ya? 'Cause I'm tellin' ya, I can handle *any* kind of trouble."

Bill Dickey

👾 || "Chica de corazón frío..."

Bill Dickey

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