"Looks like she's not here," Oz said.
Mr. Nash continued to pound on the door. "She's got to be here," he shouted just as the door opened. Given how often Oz changed his hair color, you'd think Mr. Nash wouldn't even blink at magenta locks; instead he stood there, stammering without actually saying anything, although could have been because the girl was stark naked.
"What?" she shouted. "Can't you see I'm busy?" A blond man peeked out of a back door, saw the girl slam her hands onto her hips, and ducked back out of sight.
"We were looking for Helen," Oz offered.
"Does it look like she's here?"
"Well, to be honest, we can't see much besides your–" Oz started.
"She's gone," the girl replied.
"Gone? She can't be gone," Mr. Nash shouted, thinking the girl meant Helen had left town.
"Happen to know where?" Oz asked.
Her tits jiggled as she shrugged in response. Mr. Nash blushed and took a step back. Oz, used to extreme behavior from the girls Devon preferred, merely asked, "Know where?"
A voice called out from the back room. "Kris."
With a smile, she glanced towards the sound of the voice. "Don't know. Gotta go. Bye." She slammed the door shut.
"Great. Now what do we do?" Mr. Nash grumbled.
"Got an idea," Oz said, heading down the stairs. As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Oz sniffed at the air, pointed off to their left, and said, "That way."