You try to dress nice. How do you dress nice for a sex club? You have no fucking idea. But you've got the greaser cool guy look down pretty good, and you think it works for you. You wear your tightest t-shirt. You spend like fifteen minutes in front of the bedroom mirror trying to decide which pair of jeans is the most flattering for your glutes. This is your chance.

Eridan's right. This guy is so bangable, and you're going to be the one to do it. ...just as soon as you can manage to make that whole 'words' thing work again.

Neil Josten stares at the large building in front of him, his mouth twisted into a small frown. Yesterday, Browning had handed him a manila folder containing his new name, his new life. Included in that file had been a note, the same slightly crumpled note he’s holding in his hand now, with the name of his new employer. Foxhole Aquarium. Ask for David Wymack.