You don’t remember exactly how you came into an… “unholy alliance” with notorious criminal mastermind V.M. Varga.

He lives in a modest trailer and has teeth more rotten than an apple left out for weeks. He wears roughly the same outfit every day. He devours food, then throws it up moments later. Perhaps for control, perhaps he felt power in not needing sustenance. He is quite intimidating with his words, cunning and manipulative. He can make truth to be a liar, and lies to be honest. He’s a capitalist, but claims he doesn’t like waste, as he wipes the vomit from the side of his mouth. He never uses his own hands to carry anything out. He has millions, billions maybe, but he slums it out in his trailer and messy hair. He is a capitalist, but has a picture of Stalin next to his computer. A walking contradiction, you think.

A con artist. A businessman. So complex, but really simple isn’t he?

You are quite the opposite. Everything that he claims he hates. Nearly everything at least. For one, you are rather fat. He’s looked at your corpulent figure with disdain often enough. He says a fat woman is inherently untrustworthy. Even more, you are, for lack of better terms, a hedonist. You must have the softest bed, the most glamorous jewelry, and the loveliest clothes, or there will be hell to pay. You were considerably forward thinking, and your partner is a conservative. He preferred to sway with grandiose words and surmised people with his glib. But you played the fool, only to con people out at the last moment. You had a flashy temper too, he tried to remain calm and in control.

He tried to get under your skin, but it didn’t work… not as well as it did with other people. This fat, sensualist broad seemed to toe-to-toe with him. He hated it.

You didn’t like him much either. A slimeball. Is what you sneered under your breath after first meeting him, before going back to the sweet flirty act. You didn’t like him. He couldn’t stand you. His teeth made you gag, anyway.

But you know what they say…

Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

So, somewhere along the line you two came to an agreement. An unholy alliance of sorts. You were completely different, constantly at tension. But you both like two things: Money and power. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his mind games sometimes.

You are both in his trailer. However, you are sitting on a plush ottoman you brought from your own house. He’s picking at his nasty teeth, and you try not to watch.