"ARE WE DONE YET?" Nona said. "C'mon, Burny Van Gogh, my ass is getting numb.

     Burny was out on the porch, sketching an unwilling model sitting on the steps: Nona.

     "Nona, you're very impatient."

     Nona stared at the driveway. It was workday afternoon but Stan arrived early in his car. "Hey, if it isn't the shitface."

     Stan's car pulled up beside Burny's truck. He got off, wearing a salesman's mechanical smile, and carrying a box of family-size pizza. "Yo, Burny my man, wazzup! A great artist like you could sure use pepperoni pizza, yes?"

     Burny and Nona exchanged glances of mistrust.

     Stan approached and handed the box to Burny who hesitated. Nona nodded to him. Pizza from the enemy is still pizza.

     "It's all yours, buddy." Stan said.

     "Um, well, uh, thanks." Burny said.

     Stan glared at Burny's unfinished work. "Your girlfriend? She's pretty. You've got taste, son. Let's invite her to dinner sometime. My treat."

     Nona threw Stan suspicious looks as he started for the door.