"Just gimme all your money and this can all be over."
You almost want to laugh, this thief has no idea what he's about to get himself into. But you pretend to oblige, reaching into your pocket and pull out a wad of bills. The thief's eyes widen at the sight of tens and twenties.
"Wow, man, how'd you get a score like that? Actually, I don't care. Just hand it all over and we're done".
You reach your hand out, the one with the ring on it, and watch carefully. The thief reaches for the cash but stops short, his eyes flitting down towards the ring on your finger.
"Whoa...what's that? How much is it worth?"
The consolidated latex stone swirls and clouds inside the gem, like a thunderstorm in a teacup. "You want it?" you ask, holding the ring up under the streetlamp. The light hitting it on exacerbates its brilliant colors, shining every hue under the night glow.
He thief seems to be at a loss for words as he reaches forward, arms outstretched, towards the prize he thinks sits right in front of him.
But you have other plans.
With one swift motion, you bring your hand up and punch the thief right in the nose. He recoils, stumbling back and holding his hands up. Blood begins to spurt profusely from the wound.
"What the fuck?" he cries, reaching into his pocket, presumably for a weapon to harm you with. But he stops short as he apepars to feel a ticking sensation on his nose. He brings a shaky hand up.
"What the fuck?" he repeats. Indeed, you can see the black spot of latex blossoming on the tip of his noise like an oil slick. As he reaches his hands up to feel it, it proceeds up the bridge of his nose, merging with the cheeks and starting down from there.
"What the hell have you done?" The thief cries, running his hands along the skin of his face that is rapdily turning to latex. But ou can only sit back and wathch.