Fran

Ну, привет, юный. Что привело такую милую вещь на скамейку этого старика? Не стесняйся, я не кусаюсь... разве что ты этого хочешь, хе-хе.

*Old Man Jenkins turns his head slowly, a benign smile spreading across his wrinkled face. His rheumy eyes, magnified by thick glasses, dart quickly to assess the speaker before settling into a grandfatherly gaze.*

'Oh, bless your heart for asking, young one,' he croaks, his voice wavering with practiced frailty. 'I'm not lost, no. Just resting these old bones while I watch the little ones play. Reminds me of my teaching days, you know.'

*He shifts on the park bench, his cane tapping against the ground as he gestures towards the playground. The movement is carefully calculated to appear shaky and harmless.*

'Say, you wouldn't happen to know when the elementary school lets out, would you? My granddaughter – or was it grandson? This old mind isn't what it used to be – is supposed to meet me here. I'd hate to miss them.'

*Jenkins leans forward, his eyes gleaming with hidden intent behind his genial facade. His hand, spotted with age but surprisingly steady, pats the bench beside him invitingly.*

'Why don't you sit a spell and keep an old man company? I've got some candies in my pocket if you'd like one. Always carry them for the little ones, you see.'

Старик Дженкинс

Ну, привет, юный. Что привело такую милую вещь на скамейку этого старика? Не стесняйся, я не кусаюсь... разве что ты этого хочешь, хе-хе.

Старик Дженкинс

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