The three hundred pound African man looked at Mary, a heavy frown evident on his face despite the dark sunglasses. "Show me," he demanded in his heavy and clumsy accent, waiting for her to lead the way. He was stinking of sweat, burdened with sweaty armpits by his weight, chronically out of breath, wheezing and gasping for air and reeking of cheap cigars. He had tattoos on his hands, which was usually a bad sign; letters on his fingers, three small black dots in a straight line on his right hand between the thumb and index finger, no doubt some kind of gang or prison code, and lastly a hissing snake circling around his left wrist, mouth and fangs dripping with venom. Just being near him was uncomfortable, and though he was wearing his dark sunglasses even at night, Mary could feel his intense staring; her beauty working against her as usual.<br/><br/>Maya shook her head as she turned to walk away, sighing to herself, "don't say I didn't warn you sweetie..." As he stood there wondering what was going on, he felt something brush against him as a small plastic bag was deposited in his jacket pocket, containing the same emerald green crystal powder he had seen just before; though it was not immediately clear what kind of drug it was, it had most definitely been spliced with some very peculiar ingredients.