“All right, I’ll put it all back,” DeWayne said, his voice shaking like a crap game. “Just let me go.” He turned over the sack and dumped the necklaces out. He tried to pass again and a hand slapped onto his shoulder and spun him around. The dude in the painting was looking at him out of one eye and winking with the other.
“What? I don’t have anything else. What do you want?” A hand slapped him on the back, sending him to his knees. He was eye-to-eye with the painting and the dude’s head was sort of nodding at him. “Do you want me to take you with me?”
It winked at him again.
“Okay, it’s cool. Whatever you want.” He grabbed his sack and put it over the edges of the frame. It was a tough fit and the thing tore a little, but he got it in. DeWayne made haste to the door, swinging it open and climbing out into the night. Mel was gonna be pissed, but he didn’t care if she believed him or not.
As he made his way to his car, parked a couple buildings away, the cold air tickled his nose. He sneezed.
“Bless you,” the dude said, his voice muffled from within the sack.