The flock of pterodactyls in her guts didn't agree with that assessment. She held up her hands, peripherally noticing the air hose had somehow disconnected from the ratchet still gripped in her fist. “Okay, sir. I'm calm. We're all calm. We just have a misunderstanding here. I'm sure we can figure this out.”
He looked at his friend, muttering in Spanish, something about being shamed by a gringa. Looked in the car and spotted the brick of dope, eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. He looked back at Clarice and she could see his Scared circuit switch over to Panic. He had no clue how to handle this situation. Not that she had much room to talk, but this guy did things like this for a living. His How To Be A Miami Vice Villian book should have explained this scenario to him.
Stupid
