A look of consternation came across “Slick’s” face when Emilie held him at bay with her leg, and it might have escalated into a violent anger had his eyes not followed up her boot, making no effort to obscure his hungry gaze.
“Oh, I gets it. Yer one’a dem workin’ girls from the big city. Well, don’t you worry none, Daddy’s got all the green you need…”The misshaped man trailed off slowly when he too noticed the sound of the approaching vehicle, which drew his attention away from the shorter of the redheads. He even stepped back when the car came to a sudden gravel-grinding halt, and the look on his face was possibly the ugliest one he’d shown yet. The dust seemed to reveal the coolest 2-seater sports car that Sam or Emilie could imagine; literally, it was whatever car they thought was the coolest of that type in the whole wide world (though if they weren’t exactly into cars the mindscape did
provide one for them). With the engine down to an idle it was easier to hear
the music that was blaring through the sound system as the man inside hopped out of the vehicle.
And what a man he was. If “Slick” was a mockery of Victor, then this was the most flattering of caricatures. He was tall, probably hitting that magic 6’ mark, with perfectly coiffed black hair, sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. He was dressed in a
tailored 3 piece suit, the Italian cut helping to emphasize his inverted triangle physique. And those blue eyes were shooting daggers at the twisted man.
“Idward Freud! If I find out that you laid one greasy paw on either of these young ladies…” He said in a loud and commanding tone, his perfect white and straight teeth showing as he spoke in a trans-Atlantic accent.