"Oh, Mr. Prolongo. You are a better specimen than I was led to believe. Before you go, may I ask for a moment of your time? I promise to pay you in full for your services."
"None of that funny business. Promise?"
"Mr. Prolongo. I will keep my hands where you can see them at all times. Lola, the thurible, if you will. Mr. Prolongo, my niece will anoint you with the incense—it is merely a test. As you can see, the smoke is red, but if and only if it were to change to white. Well. Let's see."
The young lady, Lola, came at me swinging the stinky can. It smelled like my evening tea of Earl Grey. She murmured a small incantation I could not decipher. The red smoke engulfed me and all eyes were on me. Then a smile like one of those cats that can disappear bloomed on her lips. The smoke was white.