Charlie's cousin opened her freezer, and threw me a bag of ice, which I promptly held against the front of my pants. Then, she turned to my friend. "So," she said, "What can I do for you?"
"We need fake IDs." Charlie responded.
The girl laughed. "Trying to get into a bar, now, are we?"
"No, it's a nightclub." Charlie clarified, "But it's not to score booze. We're on business."
She chuckled, once more. "What business could a couple of kids have at a nightclub, that doesn't involve alcohol?"
"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." I said, still clutching myself.
"Wouldn't I?" She asked, suddenly intrigued. "Very well," she added, "I'll do this for you, if you promise me that you won't drink at all."
"Thanks, Amanda." Charlie said, "We promise." He took a moment, to think, and then asked, "So, what's the damage?"
Amanda considered this, for a time, and said, "Well, usually, it'd set you back quite a bit. But, since you're my cousin, and since Lyle's in pain, I'll do it for free." Charlie thanked her, again.
She had us walk into a little makeshift studio that she'd set up in the living room, and took our pictures. After having us write down our basic personal information, she said, "Okay, I'll have these done in about two weeks."
"Um," Charlie protested, "We were kinda hoping for them to be done by tomorrow."
Amanda laughed. "It's that urgent, huh? Well, I'm sorry, but that's impossible. Give me two weeks."
After reluctantly agreeing to her time period, we walked home. After about ten minutes, I removed the bag of ice from my love-zone, and used it to slug Charlie in the arm. He hit me back, and we continued on our way.
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