(Untitled)
Why halo thar, Milliways. It's been a while for Ramon. After all the trouble, and the resulting surgery, and the cells and then the recuperation, he didn't feel much like coming in. So he's had a month or so on his island in the Bahamas and as a result walks in looking relaxed, his deep tan set off by a white shirt and worn, casual jeans
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He always enjoys that grin. It often means someone's going to end up hurt.
'His name's Urquhart. I thought he was alright at first. He's an assassin from way back in the past.'
He lights a cigarette, his face darkening a little.
'He doesn't hate everyone. It's just that I hired him to do a job, which he failed at. And then he started saying it was my fault he failed and he wanted his money anyway. Naturally, I told him to fuck off - so there was a fight and I killed him. Unfortunately, he's already dead so he just came back and proceeded to tell Security I'd hired him in the first place.'
Which, obviously, is a big no-no in professional terms and pisses Ramon off more than the fact he had the nerve to ask for his money after clearly being shit at his job.
Not quite as much as the way he threatened to rape him though. That was the bit that made him kill him.
'He thinks of himself as a ladies man. You and he would probably get on like a house on fire.'
Possibly in a 'burn the bar down' kind of fire, but Ramon's OK with that.
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Siiiip.
"What'd you hire him to do, if you don't mind my asking?"
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That bastard.
'Do you know him? He's an asshole. And Urquhart did kill him but he just came back. Which I warned him he might but he still got pissy about it.'
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Eyebrow arch.
"What's it with you and finding all the guys who can't stay dead?"
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And one he'd rather not have.
'Though I suppose it gives something of a challenge if I decide one of them needs to stay dead.'
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"Everybody's got to have a hobby."
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