[center][h2][color=009966]Joseph 'Tank' Cooper[/color][/h2][/center]
[hr] 

It all happened so fast. The flailing came first, which he didn't quite see coming. Then his pizza hit the ground, and he felt extremely crestfallen at that. But what happened next was something that he felt could have only come from a weird, suspense thriller. There were needles in the back of Wallace's head, and the older guy who Tank had enjoyed messing with was now dead. It wasn't something he would have wanted, but it begged a lot of questions. 

He let out a breath, and shook his head. His next words were so deadpan that he felt like the tension had just been cut with a knife. "[color=009966]So...guess this is an odd time to tell you I've been transferred.[/color]" Tank said, pursing his lips together at the coming looks from Gregory and Cecily. He shrugged. "[color=009966]Not sure why, but got a call on my way back up...the plot thickens[/color]." he shrugged, and within a minute or two he was gone.