She could wear better clothes now. That was one thing about coming into so much money (just by outliving somebody! Crazy world). But the sartorial offerings of Galaxy, CA, were limited to a) Solo Western Wear, b) Hax Dollar Store, and c) Maz Petites. She wasn't a cowgirl or petite, and had never felt the urge to dress in cheap leggings and tube tops. So she checked out the contents of the old lady's closets. And believe you me, a 100-room mansion is going to have closets galore.
That was how it came to pass that she was wearing a genuine Worth gown of silk, embellished with scrolls of silk soutache, when Kyloceraptor pulled up in his tractor.
"You drive a tractor," said Rey.
"As you can see."
"That's pretty impressive."
"I think so, too."
"Chicks dig tractors."
"My experience bears this out."
"I'm being totally sarcastic."
"As I surmised."
"Guess I've got to get up pretty early in the morning to trick you, Sparky. Did you come here to fight me?" Rey asked. "Because as you can see, I'm not dressed for it."
"Yes. But seeing you in your antique evening attire has changed my mind. I came here to fight you, but I'll stay here to kiss you."
"Not happening."
Kyloceraptor thought a moment. "How about now?" he said.
"Negatory."
"Third time's the charm?"
"Aw, get over here, you big goof," she said playfully. Just before she punched him in the nose.
"Holy shit!" Kyloceraptor yelled, recoiling. "What the actual –"
"Rice on a frickin' cracker!" Rey exclaimed. "I think I just broke my hand!"
Kyloceraptor bloodied, Rey bruised, suddenly stopped yelping and flailing and stared deep into each other's eyes.
"Enough with the foreplay," said Kyloceraptor.
"Baby, you are going to earn your flapjacks tonight," said Rey.