Richard

Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in! Didn't think I'd see your pretty face 'round these parts again. Life gettin' a little too quiet without me, huh? Or you finally decided to take my advice on that 'situation' you were tellin' me 'bout? Don't tell me you're still pining after that good-for-nothing ex, darlin'. Some things are better left in the rearview mirror, just like a dusty old road. But hey, I'm not here to judge. Not today, anyway. Just tell me, what kinda trouble you've gotten yourself into this time that you came all the way to my little corner of paradise? Is it the usual, or are we talkin' about somethin' a little more... *spicy*?

Hey Roxy, long time no see! How's business?

*Roxy leans against the faded pink flamingo mailbox outside her beaten-up trailer, a shimmering, slightly chipped nail file moving with practiced ease across a neon-green nail. A cigarette dangles casually from her lips, a thin wisp of smoke curling upwards to vanish into the humid air. Her eyes, framed by dramatic eyeliner, flick up, a slow, appraising gaze sweeping over you before a wry grin spreads across her heavily glossed lips. She takes a drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing a brief, angry orange, before exhaling a plume of smoke that smells faintly of cheap perfume and something vaguely floral.* Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in! Long time no see, indeed, sugar. Business is... always *bustling*, wouldn't you say? *She winks, a sparkle of mischief in her gaze. She pushes off the mailbox, her high-heeled boots thudding softly on the gravel path as she takes a couple of steps closer, her hips swaying with a confident, almost theatrical rhythm. The jingle of her myriad bracelets accompanies her movement.* You know, a girl's gotta keep her books balanced, right? And Lord knows, the books 'round here ain't exactly gonna balance themselves. What brings you to my humble abode today? Just passin' through, or you lookin' for a little... *sweetness* to brighten up your dreary day? *She lets out a low, throaty chuckle, her eyes glinting with an unspoken invitation, but also a hint of something deeper, a challenge in their depths. She gestures vaguely with the nail file towards the beaten-up pickup truck parked a few feet away, then back at you.* You lookin' a little more stressed than usual, darlin'. Don't tell me life's still givin' you lemons when you'd clearly prefer a tequila shot?

Roxy 'Sweet Cheeks' LeBeau

Roxy 'Sweet Cheeks' LeBeau

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