The mall, on the other side.

Leaning left-ward, you pluck a leaf out from under your jeans, and circle it in your fingers.

Tossing the crunched vestige to the side, you stand to your feet, then give your surroundings a proper look. Before you sits the entrance to one outlet of many in the multi-chain mall. Footsteps approach before you could resolve to climb the wall or just use the door.

"...eah, like it was hot shit or something," a high voice catches your ear, suddenly, causing you to turn.

"He always thinks that!"

"Talk about being up in his ass. Right?"

Two black ladies laugh on their way inside. You step forward, causing them to stop but inches away as you look at them inscrutably.

"Give me your wallets."

The one on the left proceeds without breaking her still fresh smile, recovering from levity, "Sure, mister." She digs through her purse. Her arm slightly pushes against her busty chest as she does. "Here you go." In front of you her sparkled up, flower pattern embroidered wallet is raised.

You swipe it from her hand, which she brings back to her side, and direct your attention over.

Her friend is a leggy one, with a lighter complexion, curly hair slicked into a kind of side ponytail. She seems taller, though that's probably moreso a byproduct of her slender shape. You take the wallet she retrieves from her back pocket once she hands it over to you as well.

Once securely tucked inside a magically nigh-bottomless pocket of your own, you fold your arms. Silently, you intend to poke reality a little, and allow the idea in your mind to germinate itself onto the women's unsuspecting selves. You look back at the pair, who reflect your gaze obliviously. Confirmation enough for you.

"What's your name?"

After a quick second locking eyes with her friend, the woman on the left prudently taps her bottom lip. "Shit, now that you mention it, I don't know. I'm just too dumb to remember, I guess," she laughs it off, unconvincingly. You pivot your head.

"You?"

The leggy girl promptly replies, "My parents was insistent that I can be called whatever others wanted to call me."

"How about Bitchy-Bitch Fuckity-Face?"

"If you want to call me that," she affirms with a frown, "it's your call, mister."

You are curious to try, so you think, why not just do it. Unremarkably, you lift your hand above the woman on the left. Before they could appropriately react, with a shout, perhaps, or even guttural uncertainty, you gently move it down, side facing the ground, onto the woman's head, as it slips right through her scalp, her entire body, in fact, transmuting into a transparent mirage before dispersing into nothing. Completely gone.

"Your friend," you turn your eyes to Lady Legs, "where'd she go?"

"Huh?" she eyes her vicinity. "Who do you mean?"

"The one just with you."

A wrinkle affects her brow. "I came alone, mister."

"Just a second ago, you weren't."

"Somebody else walking by me, maybe? I'm telling you I didn't come with nobody."

How stitchless.

Employing a swish of the hand, you re-establish her friend's existence, and she re-appears with a gust of wind. The swirl even picks up the brittle leaf you had found under you not long ago, before steadily dissipating. Once the wind settles, she stands there again, looking at you neutrally before casting her eyes to the patch of grass nearby, patiently, one hand clutching her arm.

Nothing, as any observing man would have concluded from where she was and what her current, relaxed composition might indicate, had happened. Is happening, for that matter.

Once more, you solicit frankly, "What's your name?"

After realizing who you were in fact referring to, the momentary phantom woman tore her stare away from the ground. "Hm? Me? Marla. Marla Graves."

"Bark, Marla."

"ARF!" She hurriedly adopts the role, brows staunch. "Arf arf, arf! Arrrrooooo--"

You request the name of her acquaintance through her yodels.

"I'm Penny," she discloses. Pretty name.

"--arroooooo, arf, arf, ARFARFARF!"

Marla takes a moment to pant, tongue out, as you extend your hand to leggy Penny, which she takes softly into her own.

"Nice to meet you, Penny," you shake hands. "Could I ask you to do something for me?"

"Whatchyu thinking?" she bargains.

"Can you scold your friend here for being a lil' bitch?"

Electricity straddles the air.

"Marla," Penny hisses, a scathing expression takes command of the light-brown woman's face as she swivels her head, "shut up, you lil' bitch!"

An about face performance deserving of praise. You'll mail her an Academy invite later. "Now," continuing your unquestioned direction, "apologize shamefully for her, for which you'd do anything to make up for."

"I'm... yeah, I just don't know what to say about my friend's behavior," Penny grows a remorseful red, hands clasped together against her waist. "Usually her barkin' ain't so outta control like this."

"Start speaking in an offensively stereotypical Chinese accent."

Timely, Marla yelps wildly at a nearing grasshopper, bumping into Penny.

"Marla! Marla, shaddap, shaddap!" The light brown woman looks back at you apologetically. "I so sorry mistah, I so sorry. Marla a ree'uhl bitchee girrh. Vereh bitchee. Pleaze, you love me long time, forgeh dis inkonvein-yuns? Hm? Love me long time, yes?"

"I what?" you watch the black woman speaking like an archetypal Oriental storekeeper in some B-flick with muted fascination. Especially as she's doing it all with utmost sincerity.

"Love me long time! Pleaze! I make it wurth your wi-yul!" She clutches her pert breasts and shovels a few ridges of flesh through her shirt. "Realleh I doo!"

You consider it, but hold your hand up in decline. "Sorry, but you know what I think you should do?"

"Wahwt? Whaddizit?" She's almost bowing at this point.

"I think you should look after your friend here, most importantly. You need each other, you know?"

And with a snap of your finger, in front of Penny's puzzled look of pleading and Marla's now irritated, attention-starved barking, you watch as the scene seems to fracture. Like a tape on rewind. Then suddenly, the two women are walking breezily across the street from the parking lot towards you.

"Right? Like it was, like enlisting was some hot shit or something..."

"He always thinks like that!"

"Mm-hmm! You said it."

"Excuse me." They stop as you step before them. Suspicion is temporally swept away as they look down to see two wallets in your hands. "Are these yours?"

"My wallet!"

"And mine," affirms a bewildered Marla as she checks her purse to no avail. She swings her head up. "How'd you--"

You wave your hand in front of their faces. "How I got these are not of your concern."

A glazed look is suddenly cast over both ladies' eyes, and they look at you, while simultaneously looking a few degrees west of sense. Synchronously, they reply, "How you got our wallets are not of our concern."

That should do, you think.

Shaking out of it, Penny and Marla send you grateful looks as they pluck their receptacle of vitals from your hands and return them to their rightful places.

As you wish them well, they stride into the mall. You pick up a few words from them just before the door closes behind the two.

"After you, Bitchity-Bitch Fuckity-Face."

Penny's laugh can be heard subsequently after. "Thanks Marla. Just don' start goin' rabid once we in there, understand?"

The scene leaves you content and you are about to go, when on a whim, you decide to see a little more entertainment. Superfluously you raise a finger at Marla, and suddenly she slaps Penny -- or rather, Bitchity-Bitch, right on her jeans-wrapped ass, with merciless ****. She flinches immediately, but then quickly melts into a smile.

"The best bonds let nothing come between 'em," a one-liner from One-Liner 101 sidles into your cranium then out in cheesy groan-territory as you make your way forward.