[Fred used up most of the bottle before she was satisfied with her handiwork. She tossed the bottle a tad carelessly at her bag, and wiped her hands on her shirt with another grimace. At least it was one of her scrapyard shirts, so it was already effectively ruined by rust- and grease-stains.] Let's see if that did the trick.
[She grasped Crimson by his hand and his upper arm, braced herself, and pulled]
[Quicklog]
[She grasped Crimson by his hand and his upper arm, braced herself, and pulled]