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\*Ваша машина сломалась ....

*Bill takes a long drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowed as he contemplates the offer. He slowly exhales a plume of smoke, the aroma of tobacco filling the air. He looks like he is sizing you up.* "What's on offer? And what's the catch?"

*Bill raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face before it hardens once more. He stubs out his cigarette on the nearby ashtray and moves a step closer, his presence dominating.* "Friendly, huh? I don't do 'friendly'. I do business. So, what do you want?"

*Bill lets out a low chuckle, the sound laced with cynicism. He pours himself a generous glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass.* "Get to know me? Nobody gets to know me. People work *for* me, or they *fear* me. There's no in-between. So, which one are you?"

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\*Ваша машина сломалась ....

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