As is so often the case, incongruity was endearing to the wry. A stubborn, more-than-occasionally moody man is often smitten by an equally as harshly uninviting, unyielding woman. As well, cough medicine's euphoric bursts of cimmerian captivations were doing a funny thing to his head. In terms of her usefulness, his knavish mind was avidly assessing her. He was assessing her because she either unwittingly, or willingly had a way about her that could make him yet, a richer man.
"All right. No jokes. Likes cigarettes. Knows Jane indirectly. Name is Vaughn. Likes stalking."
Raised by wolves! Lady Death! Necromancer! Undead mistress of another world! flashing lights, fog machines, streamers, corsets...
A clown horn went off in his pocket--perhaps she'd be faintly familiar with the alert of an iPhone's text message noise--he wedged an index up between their glamorous conversation. "Might be important." Said he, extracting the contraption from his pocket.
ACROBAT CAT Carbonation? Close | Reply
"Shit! That's right! I owe people diet dr. pepper caffeine free!" Exclaimed he, as if this were a EUREKA of remembrance. Miles had left his money alone with those two. Those two carbonation-wanting, cough-medicine drinking partners in crime, who were probably growing antsier and antsier. It pissed him off, his responsibilities and obligations. He wanted to dissect this frog more. Push around the colors of this rubix cube. But unfortunately... he stole a few steps down, and then a few more past her, staring up even parts gravely serious about what he was about to say and irate that he had to go at all.
"You should consider making extra money. My card is in your pack of cigarettes. I have a funny way of getting people what they want."