"Damned if you haven't been putting on weight, girl..."<br/><br/>Almost immediately, the woman in front of him turns around, indignation and fury in her eyes... but Kyle waves a dismissive hand to cut her off.<br/><br/>"Not you, lady.<em>Her.</em>" A swing of his shoulders brings the battered plastic case- cracked and dry with age- around to show the woman... but she doesn't seem convinced. And, inevitably, Kyle feels the sharp sting of a palm against his cheek, followed by the rapid click-click-click of the woman's heels on the pavement as she stalks away.<br/><br/><em>Not an auspicious start to my day...</em>The marksman shakes his head, and re-centers his grip on the cracked old case. No sense in worrying over it... people get touchy sometimes. Then again, so do machines... almost immediately, Kyle feels the urge to re-check the mounting on his scope, and make sure all the circuitry is working the way it's supposed to.<br/><br/>But that will have to wait. For one, because he'd undoubtedly get some odd looks if he pulled out his maintenance kit and started working on an antique rifle in the middle of the sidewalk. And for two because he can see his destination ahead of him- and two women in conversation outside of it.<br/><br/>"Mornin', ladies!" Kyle checks his watch real quick to make sure it is, in fact, morning. "Y'all work here? My girl and I were lookin' to respond to your ad..."