*Not bad.* Looked like one of those goofy Laugh-In chicks. Probably had a peace sign tattooed around her bellybutton. It was typical that Slick was going by her style. Anyone who took a good look at Acacia could tell she had no use for peace, symbolic or otherwise.

She was scoping him big time. He tried to straighten from the slump shouldered posture that had become natural and swaggered over. The old charm was working. He saw her almost invisible lips curl into a smile. If he'd been able to see her eyes behind the sunglasses, he wouldn't have been so sure of his irresistability. "Hey, baby. Whassup?"

"Taxes, the price of gas, and possibly the jig."

Slick blinked. His wits hadn't been that swift to begin with, and the shit he shot into his veins had slowed them down to a crawl. "Uh... you shouldn't say jig right out in public 'round here. Some of the niggers might get mad and jump you."

"I'll remember that."

"What's your name, darlin'?"

"Acacia. That means thorny."

His eyes widened in surprised delight. "Horny?"

"Thorn-y. Prickly, stickery. Like a cactus or stinging nettles."

"Aw, why'd your mama give you such a mean name?"

"She didn't, I chose it myself. I'm a great believer in the meaning of names. Take yours, Slick. There's slicker than snot, slicker than shit..."

"Hey!" It finally dawned on him that he was being insulted.

"What's your real name, then?"

"Brendan, like that Encino Man dude."

Her dark penciled eyebrows rose sardonically. "Now that's appropriate. It means stinky hair."

"You made that up.”

"If I was making an effort to insult you, I could do better than that. No, Smellylocks, that's the real translation. Before you get all pissed off and do something even stupider than normal, I have what you need."