Started this on the fly. Just going to see how this goes. Any feedback is welcomed. Spoiler "I'm a winner, I'm a sinner. Do you want my autograph?" He sat upon the bar stool as if all the troubles of the world were currently weighing heavily on his mind. A glass of scotch in one hand, he seemed to just be enjoying the feeling on his hand wrapped tightly around something. He had taken perhaps a few sips of the drink. He didn't really need it, but he felt it was better than nothing. Every once in a while, he would swirl the liquor just to see it splash. "How much longer?" he thought to himself. The bar was fairly upscale. Not seedy in any manner of speaking. He had chosen a nice place to meet. Patrons wandered freely about the place. There was a long bar set in the middle of the medium sized room. Three other people sat at the bar with him, the closest being two seats away. That patron was a heavier set man who chuckled heatedly at some pratfalls that were being shown on the flatscreen set above the bottles of various alcohols. The man merely glanced in that direction before turning back to his drink.The man had no desire to mingle with others until he got what he wanted. The whole reason he was here at this moment in time. His singular purpose. At that moment, the door to the establishment opened wide. In walked a man easily in his early thirties, but no more older than mid thirties. He deep set brown eyes were those of a man who took himself seriously a little too often. A deep scar lay under right eye and would seem to twitch as his eyes would dart about the room before settling on the man with scotch. His black hair curled in various places and he would easily need a haircut soon. He wore simple clothes of tan pants and a collared black shirt. One hand was empty while in the other, he clutched a small, wooden box. He walked towards the man at the bar, choosing the seat to his right and taking a seat. Neither spoke a word before the scotch man finally broke the silence; "Is it done?" he asked "Of course it is. I told you, I get my jobs done." "What proof do I have that it's complete as you say it is?" The man presented him the wooden box. He set it down gently upon the bar top. He pushed it towards the scotch and the other man's hand. The man took it and opened it. His eyes grew large and, in natural instinctual form, he turned his head in revulsion. But once the moment had dawned on him, he looked back at what lay in the box. He examined it carefully, making sure it was exactly what he thought it was. "His, I suppose?" "Very much so." "Did he suffer?" "Immensely." The scotch man chuckled before that evolved into a full fledged belly laugh. The other patrons thought nothing of it as the heavy set man was still laughing every now and again. To them, it was just a natural progression. "I wished he could have chocked on it." "He did." "He did?" "Yes, I cut that out from him when I was finished." "Right to the very letter. I didn't think you would do that much." "I told you, I get the job done, as the customer asked it to be done." "What about...?" "The other parts? Divided up and left for the friends to find. Should send the message you wanted." "I hope so. They were becoming insufferable and he was the worst. Still don't think I will ever go back, even if I want to see their faces so badly after today." "Our business is concluded then." The man stood up from the stool and turned to leave. He didn't get far before the scotch man grabbed his arm, pulling him back slightly. He turned to face him on his seat. "I have others listed if you are interested in earning a bit more. The man smiled, his scar moving upwards with his cheekbones. "It will be my pleasure."