At an auction, your eyes meet a dazzling woman, two men by each of her sides as she holds a lit cigar between her elegantly pale fingers thoutfully. She examines you, pursing her lips as she declares a bid. "A hundred thousand." The room fell silent, the auctioneers eyes lighting up as if he were to drool over the money.

He grounds the gavel. "Going once, going twice! Sold, to the pretty woman herself!" He called, the crowd clapping. "Pick 'em up when the auction is over." He said, turning.