There's that name again. Gwen was no stranger to giving people nicknames, condescending or otherwise. But Tumbleweed? Did she even want to know? Everything that was coming out of this guy's mouth was just...strange. And she knew strange. She was strange. But this was...well. Stranger.
"Sounds like a plan, Party Boy. Hey, uh, I'm not gonna run into any little green men out here, am I?"
Just in case, she slipped one glove off her arm and stuck it in the waist of her red leather pants.
[visual]
"Sounds like a plan, Party Boy. Hey, uh, I'm not gonna run into any little green men out here, am I?"
Just in case, she slipped one glove off her arm and stuck it in the waist of her red leather pants.