Kizzie's eyes flashed red as her cybereyes slipped into inactivity, letting her more easily see, and appreciate, the gorgeous twins. The elf had been around once or twice and she knew trouble when she saw it -- these girls were too cute to be Mr. Johnsons. Or, if they were, they were hellishly dangerous.<br/><br/>As her drink arrived, Kizzie, still silent, took a deep slug from her glass, before slamming it down onto the table. "Let's talk numbers. I'm not just some kid from Louisiana with a gun,' she growled softly.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>