"Enough with the bullshit excuses!"

You flinch as the muscular, tackily dressed thug in your living room raises his voice. His friend, the even more hulking black guy with a touch more style still says nothing. He rocks a vase of flowers back and forth on a shelf as if threatening to knock it over. Cheesy but effective: you're scared out of your wits.

"You've had more than enough time, and more than enough extensions. We added interest, now we're cutting you off. Five grand by Friday or we come back and take what we can from your shitty little apartment..." he touches your cheek, and you shudder, "...and the rest from you in whatever way we like."

With a thunk the vase hits the floor sending water and flowers flying.

"It's Monday morning Miss Hart, you better hope you have a profitable week."

"But- but- but..." you stammer, but they're already out the front door, leaving it swinging open behind them.

Five thousand dollars? Where are you going to get that kind of money? You're a biochem grad-student with a shitty part time job three days a week that pays you barely enough to live on. You run to the bathroom to fix your make-up - you were about to leave for work when these two thugs barged into your place and the stress and terror brought tears to your eyes.

You're Holly Hart, a smart, hard-working girl who never did anything bad... well not REALLY bad... and who people often underestimate because of your pretty face, your long tousled, dark hair and your... frankly succulent, full, heavy breasts. It's always a struggle to get people to take you seriously as a science student but things had been going so well!

Shit! What are you going to do?