"Come on man, it's just a little thing. I'm sure you can find her," Dicky rumbles encouragingly. His eyes are fixed on the beautiful flatscreen monitor's glare, his hand resting heavily on the back of Paul's swivel chair.
"You haven't really given me anything to go by, Richard," Paul is a little uncomfortable, pulling instinctively away from Dicky as he gets close. Paul can't tell exactly what unsettles him about his new friend, he's been nothing but awesome so far. There's something though... something...
He scratches at his patchy beard nervously and continues. "You need to give me a name or a credit card or something. I can't just search for 'hot blonde' and find just one girl in Sacramento."
Frustrated, Dicky at least understands Paul's right. He needs more. "What if I got a credit card receipt? Would that do?"
"Uh... I mean sure. But how're you going to get it? I mean, you're not looting through her trash or something, are you?" Paul chuckles, still nervous. "Wait, are you?"
"No!" Dicky rolls his eyes, "no, man. I'm not stalking anybody." Technically, very untrue. "Besides man, stop asking so many questions we've got a deal. You do me this one thing, and then I hook you up with a date with Brianna."
"I don't want to do anything ill-"
"Paul, think. Think about Brianna's tits. Her amazing, wonderful tits. You can have those tits if you play your cards right."
Wait, rephrase that. "I mean, you can get with those - fuck it, you know what I mean. Just please, do me this one solid. I'm begging you." Pretty please?
Paul hesitates for a moment. "Sure. Yea, you get me anything and I'll pull up whatever I can get."
"Augh! YES! Paul, you're a lifesaver!" Dicky presses his hands together and backs out of the room gratefully.
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