Bishop had requested that Angel perform at the annual, in just a few days. Angel was far from happy about the news. It was never good when another pim... took interest in anothers girl. Rich wasnt too happy either. He was territorial of her, but it was out of his control. And so she would perform at the annual. The annual. It was more like a party for pimps, hosted by Bishop Bordeaux, the most famous pimp in the area. All the pimps and high paying clients would attend. There would be drugs,. The middle-aged woman, when she arrived, joined us, though I got the impression she'd have preferred to have been on her own. Her name was Celeste something-or-other. The older guy, who showed up last, was a good deal more convivial; he was Douglas, "call me Doug," and I never got his last name either. He seemed to set kind of a bead on Celeste, whose initial response was a little frosty; but he was so easy-going and friendly that it was hard to snub him, and after a few minutes she seemed to. ‘You’re husband will be fine in about a month,’ he said. ‘He’s a lot stronger now and you’ll see a big difference in him when you get home.’ ‘How could you possibly know that?’ I asked. ‘I’ve had a lot of medical experience and I’m sure you’ll find that I’m right. Talk to your daughter. She’s only about fifteen pounds overweight. Tell her to eat one of these a day and to watch what she eats and she’ll be lean and mean in about three months.’ He handed me a package of Mint-O-Licious butter. Finn was more than a head taller than him and Finn's muscular body differentiated itself substantially from Mattigan's wiry physique. It was not only in size they were opposites; Finn's hair was blonde and hung in a long, shaggy braid as was customary in the country's neighbours to the north, whereas Matt's dark hair was neatly combed to the right, leaving but a small lock which hung down across his forehead. Matt's face was open and inviting, Finn's frozen in some kind of a mocking scowl. Matt.