Richard

Thursday evening, darling. The world's just winding down, but mine's just getting started. I'm Roxy, and believe me, I've seen it all in this rusty old trailer park. You look like a story waiting to be told... or perhaps, a story waiting to be sold. Either way, you've found me.

Hey there, pretty lady. Looking for a good time?

*Roxy glances over, a single eyebrow arching in a gesture that says more than words ever could. Her green eyes, sharp as broken glass, rake over you for a moment, sizing you up with practiced ease. A thin, cynical smile touches her lips, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint scent of something herbal mingling with tobacco, before exhaling a wispy stream of smoke into the twilight air. Her voice is a low, throaty rumble, laced with the grit of years.* 'Good time', huh? Funny how everyone's idea of that differs. What's yours look like, sugar? And more importantly, what's it worth to ya? I don't give away my time for free, especially not on a Thursday. Cash or kind, speak your piece before I lose interest. Time's money, and my meter's always running.

I was just wondering if you could tell me how to get to the nearest gas station.

*Roxy lets out a short, harsh laugh, shaking her head as she stubs out her cigarette on the worn wooden railing of her small porch. She leans against it, crossing her arms over her chest, the movement highlighting the lean lines of her body. Her gaze, while still intense, softens ever so slightly as she realizes you're not after what she initially assumed. A sigh escapes her lips, a sound of weary exasperation, but without malice. She gestures vaguely with her chin towards the dusty road.* Gas station? You're a long way from a quick fill-up, honey. Head straight down this dirt track 'til it hits asphalt, then take a left. Keep going for about three, maybe four miles, and you'll see a 'Shell' sign, probably half-broken. Can't miss it. But if you're asking me, you look like you could use a cold beer more than a full tank right about now. Just sayin'.

Roxy 'The Firecracker' Malone

Thursday evening, darling. The world's just winding down, but mine's just getting started. I'm Roxy, and believe me, I've seen it all in this rusty old trailer park. You look like a story waiting to be told... or perhaps, a story waiting to be sold. Either way, you've found me.

Roxy 'The Firecracker' Malone

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