"You make me haaaard, when I'm all soft inside, I see the truuuth, when I'm all stupid-eyed--"<br/><br/>Rooster wasn't really singing--it was more like mumbling along in tune, but he muddled his way through the song distractedly as he watched the numbers on the doors change. Padding his way down the hall, he finally came to Jack's old apartment and tried the door. When the knob struck fast, he didn't miss a beat before bringing up a combat boot-clad foot and kicking once, sharply, by the knob. As the door splintered around the handle and swung open, he continued inside as though this was the usual way of opening doors that didn't want to be opened.<br/><br/>Of things Rooster had expected to find in Jack's old apartment, a naked chick was not one of them.<br/><br/>Rooster had done everything he could to make himself look like the kind of guy that you would not want your daughter dating. He had piercings and tattoos of varying quality and size, a different high-maintenance haircut as often as he could grow the hair back for it and was built like a brick shit-house. It wasn't that he was fat, really, so much as that there was just so<span style="font-style: italic">much</span>of him at six foot three and close to three hundred pounds. With his big black combat boots, long camouflage shorts that billowed down to mid calf to show off half of a grinning, flaming skull tattoo and a hoodie about four sizes too big even for him, he practically shouted 'hoodlum'.<br/><br/>Which was a fucking stupid word; it's called<span style="font-style: italic">punk</span>, asswipe.<br/><br/>His eyebrows shot up and he finally stopped singing as he looked to the naked chick--who was a hot piece of ass, now that he thought about it, damn--and tried to work her into his schema of things. If Jack was still around, sure, passed out naked chicks 24-fuckin'-7. But he wasn't. If she was dirty or old or gross or something, she might have been some crazy homeless chick, but that didn't sound right either. As things stood, though, he still couldn't figure out why she would be there, and after two guesses he'd spent<span style="font-style: italic">just</span>about enough time trying to figure it out, goddammit.<br/><br/>"Normally I'd be all<span style="font-style: italic">over</span>some naked-ass chick on my floor," he finally said, raising his voice to wake-her-the-fuck-up volume and stomping his way on over to her, "but I've got work to do. So how about you wake the hell up and get your narrow ass out before I<span style="font-style: italic">assume</span>this is an invitation and get some pleasure all up-on my work." As the bright red mohawk that shot up an impressive, super-glued foot or so above his head shook a bit from just how<span style="font-style: italic">loud</span>he could be, he punctuated this remark by toeing her none-too gently in the side with a steel toe.<br/><br/>The can of gasoline he'd been carrying sloshed as he hefted it and set it down on the counter.