Sounds like an all night marathon.

“We’ll just see how that paint responds to bodily fluids, and sweat, and the press of bodies on bodies. Let’s trade paint.”

Someone needs to blast all that paint off…

Her seecurity guard is just standing by the door, impassively watching. The substantial bulge in her pants the oonly thing that betrays her.

“Well then. Just text me your address and the time, and I can tell you all about my qualifications. Considering the money you can save by alsoo leaving your private security with me, I'm practically a bargain.“

“A travelling assistant? I suppose I can think of worse things I could do with my time. Still. Are there...beenefits?“

It's been beat into her pretty well, so she responds very well to directions.

...serv(ic)ing the new gods.