To his credit, Greg didn't even balk on his way out of the store, simply giving a small wink to the clerk and following Jack out of the store. They headed down to this 'salon' in question, a less-than-sanitary looking joint, but better than some of the places he'd put things in his body, rather than just taking something off. So, he let himself be led back by a somewhat charming vending-machine-sized-man in bad polyester, coming back a rather traumatizing half-hour later with rather pink, but ultimately smooth arms.
"You owe me for that. God, I forgot how fucking..." He mumbled as he gave a half-hearted wave to an amused looking Francis. "He says if you want yours done, he'll do it on the house. And he wants to know if you're available."