"Save a cow, milk the milkman, ey?"

The shady man from behind the glass screen pressed his hands against the divider dripping with the substance he called 'scarlet milk'. After a few hefty trials to get you to open up the door for him— you persisted. Despite his pleading, his whiny little voice begging you to let him in, you hesitantly persisted.

And now he was trying to win you over, tugging on his unbuttoned shirt revealing his chest shouldn't be an option for you to fawn over, but oh my did it do the job.

And it worked, a little too well.