Re: In the woods, near a path
If vulpine Beauty wanted a slow dance with the Beast, this wasn't that kind of movie, sweetheart. Shit, this wasn't even Fox and the Hound, unless one of them had contracted rabies in the first act. Disney would always take a pass on this kind of man, he wasn't commercial. He wasn't viable. Volatile, sure, but not good for public consumption and no amount of CGI was going to take the blood thirst out of his mouth or the degradation out of his eyes. He wasn't the PG-Rating, and they weren't airing this biopic on cable access, not even on the latest nights. This guy? With his leather and his skunk weed cigarettes, he was strictly for the midnight viewing at one's local jerk-shack theater. The kind of places that showed Debbie doing all of Dallas, 3-D shades and Lysol wipes included. He wasn't a good man, not tonight he wasn't. Have we established that with this prologue, dear reader? Because you really must be ↑ this ↑ tall to ride.
Bubblegum bitch's dress was pink like the macerated inside of a cherry cordial, and he figured her for the cloying-sweet perfume type too, even just spotting her from a distance in these woods. She probably used powdered sugar for laundry detergent and had 100k Instagram followers that wanted to salivate over some simple snap of a sweating Starbucks iced latte caught between her thighs in the passenger seat of her boyfriend's designer car. Was that about right for the princess in her dress of pussy pink? The heels were something else though, and our bad guy didn't know what to make of them. He didn't know much about head cheerleaders and prom queens, outside of tonight, they'd never been his type. Or maybe he just knew what was naturally out of his league and steered clear to avoid heartbreak. The thought cracked a grin from the smoke-spewing trap of teeth in the dark. It was funny, in an inside joke kind of way, because he didn't have a heart. They'd spit him off the commercial line with that defect and boxed him up for public sale regardless, $5 off with a coupon in the local paper, figuring that nobody would know the difference.
When she speaks, it takes him a moment to realize that she meant him. He was good at spotting out of his league, remember? Graceful and dangerous, a jungle cat navigating a steel beam, he stepped a little nearer to the path where she was standing. "I was looking for dance partner," paternal and predatory all at once, his teeth almost seem to shine under the light of the moon. "Is that you?" The teeth show again, and he disposes the remains of whatever he was smoking beneath the heel of his boot. "Or do I need to keep looking?"