Her real name is Priscilla Chalmers. But everyone calls her Pinky, because she keeps her hair short, spiky, and dyed a shocking shade of hot pink. She’s kind of a Jill of all trades, a minor prize-winning art photographer, an amateur-league MMA fighter, former lead singer of the alt-rock band Crow’s Breakfast, and a licensed private investigator. And, of course, she’s smoking hot, and likes to dress to show it off.
As for you, your real name is ${Your first name?} ${Your last name?}. You’re the other half of the private investigation and security firm, Chalmers and ${Your last name?}. But when your partner is nicknamed Pinky, people who remember a certain cartoon from the nineties naturally start calling you The Brain. You don’t really mind. You like to think you’re smart enough to earn the label.
It’s a hot day in June. Your office has a little window unit air conditioner, but it’s struggling to keep up with the heat. Pinky’s stripped down to a strappy tank top, tight shorts, and sandals, leaving nothing to the imagination. As for you, you’re sweating in ${What do you wear on a hot day in June? Ex: a linen suit with an open-collared shirt, jeans and a t-shirt, a flowing white dress}. Pinky’s at her desk, cleaning her gun, a big .45 caliber automatic with a hot pink plastic grip. You’re finishing up the paperwork from your latest case, a routine job for one of the big insurance companies. Boring, but it pays the bills and keeps the lights on. As well as the all-important air conditioning.
Pinky’s just about ready to put her gun away, when the door opens, and your next case walks in, in the form of