No, shit no, mate.
Yeah, right. Fine. Ya got me. I get it. But c’mon, mate, ya could’ve at least given him a piece of paper for me to sign.
I had nothing t’do with that, mate.
Nah, not at all. He wasn’t ya present…
Trevor insisted. He patted Sandy on the shoulder and motioned toward the staircase.
…here comes ya pressie now.
The two figures that ascended the stairs snatched Sandy’s attention. Two women, both beautiful, both young, and both seamlessly fit into tight dresses and narrow pitched heels. One was dressed in an ocean blue skirt, the other in a dress of crimson rouge, their gait held a sophisticated allure and drew the attention of the room. They had well-crafted frames, overripe with endowment, slim and smooth, the kind of bodies that made other women in view clasp their husband’s arms as they would their handbags in a bad neighbourhood. Sandy could tell his friend had spent a lot of money on his gift, and the closer they came to the pair, he could see it was money well spent.