Shiny and pink.She’s on fuckin’ drugs if she thinks there is any chance in hell I’m wearin’ this.Anyway, they’re too small – stretch is on... thing, but come on. The label said large, but labels have lied before.My cell rings and I check the number. As expected, it’s Franc.“You’re fuckin’ nuts,” I say.“Bobby.” The ‘bee’ part has this kind of lilt that’s usually cute but today it’s whiny.“No freakin’ way.” She’s not gonna win this time. “Besides, it won’t fit.”“Yes, it will. It stretches.”“Not. Who gave ya that yarn, Trudy?" Cliff looked at him and said nothing, noting that Rossaleno was a good lookin' guy. It was easy to see why the skirts fall for the goon. Tony pulled out a couple of glasses and a fifth of bourbon. "I heard you drink bourbon, right Cliff?" and shoved the bottle toward him. "Pour a couple of drinks for the two of us. As you can see, one of my hands is busy." Tony went on, "You'll need a good stiff drink when you hear what I've got to say. You'll find it interesting.. More

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