I traded in bananas and weapons, killed people—remove the extra details. Tip: I don’t like bananas.
Death has always been hot on my heels, and it so happened that it finally caught up with me. I left in style… and ended up… No, not in the restroom. In a complete and utter mess from which it’s hardly possible to get out.
Didn’t even have time to wake up and I’m already supposed to fight? Against a mountain of muscle?! But I have another idea. One little, nine-millimeter idea…