Clearing his throat, Fresh awkwardly stepped up to Greaser, the propeller on the top of his hat spinning like mad. He tried to appear cool, and calm, but it was easy to tell how anxious the guy was. Adjusting the collar of his shirt with one hand, his other pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind his back. He offered it towards Greaser, in hopes he’d take it.

Greaser, my man. How ya’ doin’? Dunno why someone like ya’ is all up for grabs. Hah! Do ya’ believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk by again?

He shot Greaser a wink, although it wasn’t seen because of his dark glasses. Nervously, Fresh gulped, hoping that Greaser would accept, and not take it as a joke.