The walls were brown and designed to look like wood. The carpet was very flat and very pink. The white popcorned styled ceiling had a few brown stains from a bathtub leak on the upper floor. A fake wooden ceiling fan twirled slowly and rocked slowly as it did.
As the television show played on the television sitting on the cheap dark wood drawers, the tempary tenant slept deeply on the king sized bed. What sheets were on the bed were ruffled and scattered about. Empty beer cans sat on the bed and an empty box of store bought cigars sat at the end of the bed.
The man laying on the bed was out stretched, his bare feet dangled off the edge. His frame reached close to seven foot and the width of his frame was wide due to pure muscle. His head was shaved to the skin. His jaw and cheek held small brown hair, but over his upper lip running down to his strong chin was a dark red goate. The face was square and very strong. The brow was heavy and a pair of dark red eyebrows sat over a large pair of eyes. His cheek bones and his nose held a boyish roundness.
With his large mouth twisted open, the man gave out a loud bear like snort. A small drip of drool fell out of his mouth onto the cheap pillow he lead face down on.
A loud knock made his sleepy eyes pop open and reveal a set of blood shot gold eyes. He grunted and smacked his large lips. Using his large arms, the man pushed himself off the bed slowly.
The knock was heard again.
"I'm comin'! Hold your horses." The man said in a cracked deep southern voice.
He slumped barefooted in his dirt covered jeans and blood stained white under-shirt. His large right course hand pulled the door to the room open. Immediatly the strong sunlight slammed into the room and engulfed the man in a blinding white light. The man squinted his eyes and held up his hand. "Good God!"
"We have a job." Said a robot like voice, without emotion, with a strong proper British accent.
On the other side of the door stood the skinny frame dressed in a black stylized suit that hugged his frame tightly. The black full hair sat on his head and even though parted, it was slightly messy and cut short. Over his plastic like blue eyes sat a pair of wired framed glasses painted silver. His skin was fair and on his left cheek was a small scar.
"Trouble in Brazil." The English man in his later twenties contiued.
The large bald man in his early thirties nodded with closed eyes. "Aight ... Aight. Let me get a shower and I'll be out in a few."
The young man held up his left wrist and glanced to a military issued watch. "We are on a time limit. Edgar asks for a meeting today at noon."
"What time is it now?" The man asked followed by a beer flavored burp.
"Eight fourty three in the A.M."
A grunt escaped the man's large throat. "Be out in a sec."
