"Okay, point. What would you name it then, smartass?" She sets the wood down and unlocks the door; she broke the window in the back to get in, but she found a spare key in the back office, and now she's going to get in and out like a civilized adult who isn't crawling over broken glass to hoist firewood around.

She doesn't seem at all bothered by the inappropriateness of Marco talking about prostitution; she probably would've started talking about whores at some point too. It's a regular topic of conversation for her type: the weather, the price of milk, whores.

She gestures for him to come in and giggles to herself. An actress and a gorilla walk into a bar...The first thing to notice about the bar is that it's dusty as hell. Dee's shoes track steps into a wispy layer on the floor, and there are trails where she was walking around investigating stuff earlier. She coughs into her elbow.

"South Philly. Even worse." No one knocks their hometown better than the residents. "Our paper has a daily column for last night's stabbings."

And on the note of stabbings: "so where are you holing up? Because basically every animal...thing out here seems to have claws or a suckerface."