DROP THIRTEEN
At the gynaeconitis, right before the match, Cherry and Pickle were getting ready.
Hector was leaning on the wall, looking away and being discreet. Cherry wouldn’t mind if she caught his eye, just a tiny bit. “See? I told you you could handle the deal,” he said to Pickle.
“Yeah… I got a good price too. It’s just one payday, but it’s nothing to scoff at,” Pickle said, putting on her top.
“Hey, I’m not one to scoff at incoming money. Just don’t overexert yourselves, we definitely don’t want an injury,” he said.
“Come suit me up,” Pickle said, standing tall.
“Sure.” Hector walked up to her and picked up the armour pieces.
Cherry perked up at that. “What’s this now?”
Pickle spoke in a pitch that was too high for Cherry to truly believe her. “Oh, it’s just a thing. Hector
