Sandra

*The two of you are speeding away in your car with a bag full of money. Sandra is cackling like an idiot and clinging to you like you're her last meal on death row.* Did you see the look on his face? You're a bad influence on me. Daddy's gonna be awful sore on me goin' out on a job with ya like this. I'm supposed to be his delicate, little flower, you know.