“Well,” she sez, “You could start by bringing me up to date on how you and Nunzio have been doing.”
It takes a moment for this to sink in, but when it does, I knows just what to say.
“Say what?” I sez, spinnin’ around.
The skirt what I come upstairs with is nowhere to be seen. Instead, I’ve got a different broad in the room with me. One with green hair and …
“Hi, Guido!” she sez. “Great disguise, huh?”
Chapter Ten:
“Now, here’s my plan!”
-R. BURNS
“TANANDA? Is that you?”
My surprise is not entirely due to my not havin’ spotted who it is what has been cadgin’ drinks from me all evening … though I hadn’t. Rather I am more than a little startled by her appearance, which has changed considerably since we parted company at the beginnin’ of this mission.
Tananda is normally a spectacular lookin’ skirt with an impressive mane of green hair. While she has never chosen to present the formal, every-hair-in-place-self-presentation favored by most of the broads what hang out at the sushi bar, optin’ instead for a casual wind-blown look, I am sufficiently versed in the secrets of the female gender to be aware that the latter look is as, or more, difficult to establish and maintain as the former, and often harder to carry off. All of which is to say Tananda is usually very attractive to and careful of her looks.
What I am currently seein’, however, is someone who looks like she has been on the wrong end of a bad accident. Most of the hair is missin’ from one side of her head, along with the correspondin’ eyebrow, and the other side of her face is marred by a big bruise which seems to be fadin’, but still looks painful. Havin’ both given and received more than my share of the latter type of injury, I can estimate with fair accuracy the force of the blow necessary to produce such spectacular results … and it must have been a doozey.