Full Body Inflation

The day was overcast and cloudy, as it had been for the week prior.  The gentleman had settled in for some quiet study in the library, when the manor's front doorbell rang.  Sighing, he set down his sudoku book and pencil and proceeded through the manor, cursing himself for not hiring a butler.  As he reached the door the bell rang again, and he muttered a weary "yes, yes, I hear you" as he peeked through the keyhole.  Spotting a figure with red skin and silver-on-black eyes, he immediately reached for the lock.

Jenny slammed the door of her apartment shut as she stumbled in a drunken stupor into the hallway. Her long blonde wavy locks were slightly damp from sweat, the result of an evening full of dancing and maybe a few drinks too many. A few loose strands draped over her face, clinging slightly to her sticky cheek.

The petrol station rested atop Huntington Hill, known by the locals as “Suicide Hill” for its ridiculously precipitous slope, one that tempted many a youth in wintertime to slide down its icy surface. While achieving near-freefall speeds, the ride had an unfortunate penchant of ending with the sled skidding straight into the busy Lavinia Lane, where traffic was unimpeded by stop signs or any attention given to pesky speed limits.