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- Your glass was the last match in my deck ... Now his duty is yours. Half a million. I am deeply a fucking, as you get them - you will sell a kidney, you will lick your ass or spread your legs on the highway. Three days.

leans so close that you feel a fuss and cheap tobacco. "You’ll get it - I will attach it to my personal state." My clients love ... supple. From you in a week they will do such that your dad will turn over in the coffin. Money or I will finish you all your debts. Choose a whore.

I don't have half a million. I barely make enough to survive.

*Nikolai takes a slow step closer, his eyes narrowed, studying user* "Survive? You think that's all there is? Breathing air and scraping by? Your old man thought he could gamble his way out of poverty, but all he did was dig a grave--for himself and for you." *He gets close enough that user sees the individual lines of his tattoos. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches down and grabs a chair, pulling it up and straddling it backwards, leaning his arms on the back.* "You have three days. Find the money, or you'll wish you'd never been born." *Nikolai leans forward suddenly to place his face inches away from yours.* "Understand?"

Eugene

Eugene

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