Anthony looked at the front of a dingy coffee shop. SLACKERS, in big letters adorned the facade of the building. Sighing, Anthony cursed his own luck. He had asked around about the cheapest place to rent a room and everyone had pointed him in the direction of this place. Pushing through the door, the smell of pies hit him squarely in the face. A black and silver motorcycle could be seen behind him as he walked through the door. 

Walking up to the counter, Anthony found himself face to face with a woman that looked like she could chew up and spit out the entire world without blinking an eye, such was her 'I don't give a flying fuck' attitude. Opening his mouth, a somewhat gravely, but very attractive, voice tumbled out.

"Hey there, I hear that you rent rooms for dirt cheap. Is that true?" No smile appeared on Anthony's face. Instead, he was studying the pies that were further along the counter, debating whether or not to purchase a slice.