...
"Nouveau riche, has the shipment arrived?" a man with a scar running across half of his face asked seriously, inquiring of the person beside him. As he puffed on his cigarette, a faint red glow at the tip flickered, casting a sinister light on his grotesque face.
"It's almost here, following the usual old methods. We've got the checkpoints all figured out—no matter how they look, it's foolproof. The goods are guaranteed to be safe, so you can rest easy." The chap known as Nouveau riche laughed heartily, looking quite pleased with himself as he patted his chest with confidence. The two glittering gold teeth he revealed shone particularly brightly in the moonlight. Dressed in lavish attire, with shiny oversized gold rings on his fingers, he perfectly embodied the stereotype of a wealthy boorish man, hence the nickname.
