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There was a sudden knock at the door, which made Fred jump. Smiling tohimself, he wondered who that could be. He went over to the door andpeered into the peep hole. There was a rather skimpily dressed womanstanding in front of the door. She had on what looked like cheap makeup andan even cheaper hairstyle. “Whore,” Fred thought.Fred opened the door. The woman smiled at him, “Ah, you must beFred. Non?” She asked.“French whore,” thought Fred. “Yeah, that's me, what'da fuck youwant?”“Ah, but of course, Terry didn't er, tell you about my coming?” Shegave him a puzzled look.“Terry hasn't talked to me in at least a month. Let alone send me awhore.”She looked appalled. “WHORE!?! I am not a fucking whore, sir. Ihave been sent by Terry to give you a message.” For some reason her Frenchaccent turned into a British one.“OK, what kind of fucking message does Terry want to send me?” Fredwas getting pretty pissed off at this point. Stupid Terry, sending a whore witha sense of humour. What kind of whore has a sense of humour?“Fred Jackson. Terry needs your help. He owes some gangsters a nicebit of money. But he can't pay them back, so he needs you to donate some tohim.”“Does he know? Why the hell would I give him any money? Howmuch are we talking anyway?” Fred asked sceptically.“Five hundred.” The woman said simply.
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