In split seconds, Igram was Richard Pickford. He had no idea who the guy was but somehow was very excited. He kept staring at the gold rings as he took a seat on the bed. The man had high-class standards, there was no doubt about that, and to top it off, he was a chick magnet which was a bonus.
He got up and walked straight to the mirror, staring at his new face.
Black eyes, thick dark hair with a white stripe of hairs around the edges. There was not a single wrinkle on the chiseled face. It appeared the man had aged backward or something. He was impressed, being in the fifties was not so bad.
He opened his drawer and began rambling through the stuff in it. very expensive things, from cologne, lotions to shaving cream. He closed it and focused his attention on the entire room.
