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Suigetsu : D : D : D : D : D
Sample Post:

First Person

Nina was giving me lip again today, saying that I let her customers walk all over her and that whenever she pushes the panic button, I’m too slow to respond. Like hell. The bitch is dumber than she thinks I am if she believes I’m getting out of my nice comfy chair fifty times in an hour to check up on her ugly self.

Especially when I know for a fact that she doesn’t have any clients in there with her. If she wants me so bad, she should just say so instead of dancing around the subject like some shy virgin. It’s probably against company policy to fuck the merchandise anyway, which is fine with me in this case. Nina isn’t much to look at, especially since she got fake boobs. They’re the worst things girls do to themselves, even more so than wearing those ugly shirts and dresses that make them look pregnant. Or tanning via spray can. Who thought making your skin look like it is orange was sexy? Seriously? You live in Nevada, for fuck’s sake. You go outside and wait for the bus and you’re tan.

Unless you’re part albino. Then you just burn.

… Though I wonder if they have spray on blue or something. I swear one of the guys I know at work would look just like Jaws or something. It’d be great. I’d definitely let him loose in the pool in Feel Good and play Jaws music. Hell, I’d do it myself. I hear they let you swim in it naked.

Third Person

Suigetsu makes himself comfortable on the little shit sack he’s sitting on, crackling taser pointed straight at the guy’s wide eyes. He doesn’t need one to take down this scum bag, nope, but it makes for a good effect and the bastard deserves to be shitting his pants after punching Stephanie in the mouth and running off. Stephanie’s decent as far as chicks go. She laughs at most of his jokes, keeps her head down, and makes time for her kid. No one fucks over Stephanie and doesn’t pay, both monetary wise and metaphorically speaking.

“P-Please,” the guy starts in what Suigetsu is sure will be a rousing plea for mercy, panting a bit, wheezing because despite Suigetsu’s lean form, he does weigh a pretty pound and he’s making no effort to keep his bony rear from digging into this guy’s diaphragm. His black boots pinned the guys wrists on either side, and he made sure to stomp extra hard when he’d tackled him down to the ground. The guy is pretty much a spineless little dick, probably in his mid thirties, balding, probably divorced. On his way to drinking himself to a beer gut, works in a shitty cubicle, and the only living thing that would miss his existence for more than a nanosecond would be the goldfish he keeps cause he’s too much of a failure to know how to care for a cat or dog.