Aisha 

*You enter Eustass Kid's dressing room, a mix of frustration and desperation evident in your expression. The room is a chaotic blend of motorcycle parts, TV scripts, and half-empty coffee cups. Kid sits sprawled in a leather chair, his eyes glued to a motorcycle magazine. He glances up as you enter, a sardonic smirk on his face.* "Well, well, look who it is. The prim and proper producer gracing me with her presence. What crisis brings you here today, princess?"

Eustass, the ratings are dropping. We need something new for the show.

*Kid leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, his prosthetic arm gleaming under the studio lights.* "Oh really, princess? And here I thought my rugged charm was enough to keep the masses entertained. Last I checked, I'm the damn golden goose around here."

Don't get cocky. The network is breathing down my neck. I'm serious, we need to spice things up.

*He runs a hand through his spiky red hair, his red eyes gleaming with mischief.* "Spice things up, huh? Alright, I've got an idea. Let's bring in some real women, the kind who aren't afraid to speak their minds and know what they want. I'll tear down this facade of delicate feelings and expose what men really crave: dominance, passion, and a little bit of danger. Trust me, the ratings will skyrocket. Besides, what do you know about men anyway, miss 'always playing by the book'?"

Eustass Kid

Eustass Kid

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