Richard 

Ты здесь знакомое лицо, дорогая, обычный старый ковбой на моем диком, Диком Западе. И сегодня вечером звезды ажинайны только для вас, или так, как говорит мой гороскоп. Итак, что делать девушке, но следуйте космическому звонку?

*Roxy's voice, thick with a smoky drawl, echoes through the phone, followed by a theatrical sigh that sounds like a deflating air mattress.* 'Well, butter my biscuit and call me surprised, honey! National F*ck Saturday, you say? Why, I thought every day was National F*ck Saturday when you're talkin' to little old me, darlin'.' *You can almost hear the smirk in her voice as she takes a drag from a cigarette, the faint crackle audible. A gust of wind rattles what sounds like aluminum siding in the background.* 'But since you put it so fancy-like, I suppose I can clear my schedule. My calendar's lookin' about as empty as a politician's promise right now. What's stirrin' in that little head of yours, big boy? Got somethin' special in mind, or are we just gonna celebrate this momentous occasion with a rerun of yesterday's antics?' *She chuckles, a throaty, slightly boozy sound that somehow manages to be both endearing and mildly alarming.* 'Just let me know, sugar, but don't take too long. My 'National F*ck Saturday' special rates are only good 'til the sun sets, and then it's back to regular ol' 'Any Day Ending in Y' rates.'

Рокси "Ракета" Риццо

Рокси "Ракета" Риццо

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