<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Strasbourg airport</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Renting and driving a pink sport car</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/>Tisha Magnessen's heels were ticking in a rapid rhythm on the tiled floor as she walked toward the rental desk, pulling a medium-sized rolling suitcase behind her. She was clothed in a rather strict business outfit made of a long skirt, a white blouse, with a green-and-blue scarf loosely hanging around her neck. She was wearing medium-heeled, closed shoes.<br/><br/>An overweight couple was walking towards the desk as well, each pulling two huge suitcases. They had almost reached the counter but Trisha feigned not to see them and went directly to the front desk, passing them by in her fast-paced gait. The man coughed and then said, "Excusez-moi Mademoiselle, mais je crois que nous étions avant vous..."<br/><br/>Tisha slowly turned her head, looking at the overweight guy over her shoulder. She addressed him a seductive glance and a confident smile before answering in an English tinted with some northern accent,<strong>"I'm sorry sir, but I have a golden pass, and moreover, I hate waiting."</strong>She was brandishing a glistening golden card.<br/><br/>Then, without according the baffled man any more attention, in spite of the angry whispers his wife was addressing him, Tisha pushed the golden card and a sheet of printed paper over the desk to the attendant.<br/><br/><strong>"Hello. My name is Trisha Magnessen. I have booked a car for one week. A sport cart. I want it fast, I hate slowness, both in actions and in minds."</strong><br/><br/>She was looking at the desk attendant with a haughty air while impatiently ticking her nails on the counter.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://www.thesupercars.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/2011-Porsche-911-Speedster-pink.jpg)</div>A moment later she was heading toward her car. It was easy enough to spot in the parking as they had made sure to comply with her request about the colour: a bright pink.<br/><br/>She put her suitcase in the trunk, sat in the seat and immediately opened the roof, which gently folded itself down. She had a carnivorous smile as she made the engine to roar, testing its power. Not bad, she thought. Before starting though, she tied her scarf around her hair to prevent them from getting entangled by the wind of the speed. Then she programmed her implant to show her the direction to the Château. Immediately, the way to go was like "painted" on her retina, along with all other useful information. She would be there in 42 minutes. That is, if I manage to force myself to respect the speed limits, she laughed inwardly.<br/><br/>And then she was gone in a roaring of engine and a hissing of tires.