"Ah-ha, well, I’m tempted to suggest a battledore..?" he joked hesitantly. Roger tended to his smoke as if it might be his last. It was better to be distracted by that- than the idea of anything going down his employer’s dress. It was all too easy to see why she got all the unwanted attention, though perhaps a good deal of it wasn’t unwelcome… Not all toons were slaves to their animated nature, and he had always been one to prove by example. That didn’t exactly stop him from watching as she walked away. He promptly spun to look off at some inauspicious corner after the brutality, shifting his glance back when it seemed safe again. "You know… I may have a friend who might have a source…." he ventured, though he was pretty sure the sleezy toon fox a few doors down was not getting any of his gag supplies through legitimate means. "I’d… have to ask around," he finished lamely, shrugging and doing his best to look casual.
Jessica grinned wryly and winked, chuckling,
"A battledore, mm? I’ll have to write it down."
She laughed warmly and smoothed her dress, beaming. It was so good to have Talent back in the Ink and Paint again! Sure he was a little nervous, but he was at least polite about not staring. She wondered if she should say something? The glint of a wedding ring on her finger had thrown her briefly, but it was still very sweet. Most men didn’t care— Married or unmarried their eyes tended to wander, and she knew her body lead to wandering even if they didn’t want too. Like in painting, when you’ve put the brightest color beside the darkest— Well, she was all negative space surrounded by plush positives…
She smiled keenly, and nodded, “Thank you, darling! Oh, it’s good to know people, that’s what I always say.”
The inappropriate exchange in the office forgotten, Jessica passed the papers over to Roger, and pointed to some small text,
"Be sure to read very carefully, now. Cross out anything you don’t like and don’t feel forced to sign anything until you discuss it-" She scowled and huffed in the direction of the office, raising her voice, "My dressing room had a glass wall on it for six MONTHS before I called in my lawyer!”
She turned back and grinned brightly, shrugging, “It wasn’t all that bad, really. I painted over it and then we got a brick wall back in. You just have to knock a few heads here and there, that’s all.”
"Of course…" Roger shrugged, pretty sure the unsavory toon arms dealer probably already knew about this place. Though he might drop some hints to the foxy fellow, as he deserved a little bit of payback for the late night partying- Jessica would probably have to wallop him at least once. While the newly hired piano player wasn’t the vicious sort, well, some people just needed a refresher course on manners….
"Oh, alright…" he stopped at looked over at her a moment, then over at the open door that comically squeaked shut as the redhead made her point. "That’s- just dreadful-" he murmured, properly aghast. Paranoia scanning the fine print for anything that seemed unsavory. Mrs Rabbit must have upped the standards for the place, as he didn’t find anything too terribly offensive. Some of the injury policies were a bit worrying- he wasn’t as keen as the more comedy oriented toons on getting flattened or blown up- but all in all he could deal with it. Though he’d certainly not last here long should the singer get the itch to leave. None of the surly looking employees seemed to be the caring sort, but- he’d deal with that should the situation arise. Fortunately, he was clearheaded enough today that he was comfortable reviewing and signing the contract without fear of impaired judgement.
"Ah- hmmm. I suppose I’ll have to get used to that- ah, breaking heads…" he chuckled nervously. It was one thing to have a row with one’s roommate, but the burly gorilla at the door made him hope he didn’t NEED to start or end any fistfights in the club….