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When did assassins kill humor? Jesus he has never met such a stiff crowd in his life. He drained his drink and asked for another silently. Somehow he missed the boner killer of the Grand Church at least there it was understandable. You had Nazi Lolis, some guy breaking through a window and not one of these pinheads could laugh at the fact someone busted through a window.

As he was sipping his cranberry vodka, a second individual entered the room with a literal blood spray that would have made Dracula cream his pants. The final person to enter the bar then congealed the blood in a way that would have made Dracula’s very balls weep in teary ecstasy.

Kimber sighed he didn’t even take masturbation this seriously, even when he really wanted it. He drained his drink as the three individuals called them over. They took Tinder way too seriously, he would have swiped to the right if it weren’t his paycheck on the line. Or his very life.

Taking out a smoke and lighting it, they were in a bar, you were meant to make bad vice choices he walked up to the three individuals with the more grand introductions. Makes him think next time he should just bust through the wall with the Purple Chariot, but the repair would be too expensive for him to have to explain the reason why he did it to his Mother.

“Dinner would have been more romantic,” he tells one of them representatives with a smile.