Legs (a small portion)

"Alright, let me get this in order. You have no personality, no manners, you don't talk about yourself, you're body's not all that fabulous, you can't dress, you don't have a nice car, didn't go to college, work at a supermarket, and you're not charming or mysterious. Seriously, Brush, what's to keep me from walking off right now and finding a man with at least one of these qualities? Really, what have you got going for you besides a solid impression of a brick in the dirt?' 'Well, Suzanna, I do have this one thing about me that seems to appeal to women. Don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to trade it for a personality, a good job, a degree, or something like charm, charisma, you know?' 'Well, what the hell is it, Brush? Jesus, I'm dying here!' 'Well, I would like to show you, but we're out in public, you know? I can't just go flashing it around in front of all these people...' 'Flashing what arou... oh Jesus! You're kidding!? Tell me you're kidding, right?' 'No, no I'm not, at all.' 'My God, Brush, just how big is it...?' 'How big is what?' 'You know, your thing...' 'What thing? I'm talking about my legs. I have fabulous legs.' 'Oh for Christ's sake!' 'No really! I do. I should have been a goddamn dancer with these gams! I mean, I'm not trying to brag, but for a man my legs really are top notch. Alot people tell me so. You simply must see them..." There was a long pause between Brush and Suzanne. Finally, after weighing the facts of the night, checking her watch, looking around for escapement and finding no avail, she shrugged her shoulders and looked at Brush. "Alright you son of a bitch, lets see those goddamn legs you keep raving about."