( m.j. sashays her way into the deux lux, wearing a sharp dress suit and tall boots, red hair flowing down her shoulders. she's carrying a briefcase, despite the fact there isn't anything in it. it just makes her look more professional ok. she sets the briefcase on the counter, and leans forward with clasped hands. )

Good afternoon, Mr. Morningstar.

( is he really the devil? she's about to find out. ) I've been told you run this joint. I'm M.J., and you don't know it yet, but you need me.