As you collide, you are enveloped in a huge mass of sheer person. You bounce backwards, falling on the floor. As you look up, dazed, you see that the impact knocked him back as much a sausage would if it hit a high speed train.
The man is enormous. He stands at around 6'5", and must have been working out since he could first say "bench press". You could easily mistake him for a pro wrestler if it wasn't for the ill-fitting burgundy suit he is wearing, with 'XS Security' emblazoned on the pocket of the jacket. He leans forward and picks you up by the front of your t-shirt, dusts you off and puts you down. Jo is standing there, ghostly white.
A smaller man comes round from behind the ogre. He stands at a more reasonable 6' and is slender and reasonably handsome. You guess him to be in his late twenties, or possibly early thirties. His dark hair is neat, short and ungelled, and he is wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. He looks at you both, running appraising eyes over Jo, before saying, "Hello, Sean Pellam, mall manager. This is Mark Rodgers, one of our finest security guards. And you are?"
"I'm ," you reply, defiant. Jo is less so.
"Jo Henderson," she mumbles, looking at the floor.
"I was wondering if I could have a few words with you," continues Sean.
"About what?" you ask, playing the dumb card.
"I think you know, and perhaps it would be more...appropriate to discuss this in private." He comes across as friendly, a trained people person, but you sense an angry side to this man. Nevertheless, you have little option but to follow, and you are both frog marched through the mall. You realise that you are in for trouble, and start planning ways to get out. Up ahead you see that you are about to go past an exit to the car park, but with Jo's heels on you'll be lucky to get away. |