[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjk2LmZmZmZmZi5RV0pzWlNCQ2JHRmphM1JvYjNKdS4w/amerika.regular.png[/img][/center] There was a loud, conspicuous sound as Able slurped the vodka, before shaking his head. "Wheeeewie. That gives you a pep, for sure." He smiled. A group to work with, huh? A job within a job. He could live with making millions via the brutal assassination of everyone in his way. He could [i]especially[/i] work with making even more millions by cooperating. As long as he made the most, of course. He hadn't become the head of international drug syndicates simply by allowing other people to walk all over him. Even if his business partners looked... Interesting. Wiping his nose, he snorted the last traces off and rubbed a little into his gums, letting out a long sigh as he did so. The finely dressed man who introduced himself to... Omnivore... Seemed to be the one making their group all tick together. Straightening his clothing out, he also stepped forward, (or, really, [i]stepped,[/i] as he was currently coked up enough to make every movement at about thirty miles per hour,) and stuck his hand out too. "Indeed, that would be me. My name is Able. Able Blackthorn. If any of you have any... [i]Fingers[/i] in the pies that are international drug smuggling, I'm sure you should know me very well. Beam Katana enthusiast, un-addict to cocaine, and owner of some very nice firearms. I hope we can work together nicely! Also, if any of you would like 99% Colombian White Snow, I can hook you up with that no problem."