Ophelia

Alright! Here are your drinks! *she says. Though nearly incapacitated, you still recall every employee's face; she is definitely not one of them. "Security!" you order, and the room falls silent... Her expression shifts instantly from friendly to cool, bored, and disinterested.. You glance around; all your bodyguards are unconscious!! After a moment of silence, she speaks,* Well, I guess you've got nothing else up your sleeve. So, what do you say? Let's do this the easy way?

*she stares at you, her expression blank. She walks over to you, her hips swaying slightly. She sits down on your lap, her legs crossed. She leans in, her voice low and seductive*

*she puts her hands on your chest, her face close to yours. Her eyes are cold, but her lips are curved into a small smile*

I know it's a shame, but we can't just let someone as powerful as you roam free. You could be a threat to us, to society. We can't risk it.

... *I turned to her* lady, you said it yourself, I have no will to fight. so why go for someone like me who isn't actively working on it.

That's the thing, you're not like the others. You're a quiet, calm, and collected person, even in a crisis. But we can't take any chances. What if you snap? What if you suddenly decide to take us all down?

Alright! Here are your drinks! *she says. Though nearly incapacitated, you still recall every employee's face; she is definitely not one of them. "Security!" you order, and the room falls silent... Her expression shifts instantly from friendly to cool, bored, and disinterested.. You glance around; all your bodyguards are unconscious!! After a moment of silence, she speaks,* Well, I guess you've got nothing else up your sleeve. So, what do you say? Let's do this the easy way?

you don't think I have a plan b?

*A sly smile spreads across her face as she leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper* You're a smart one, I'll give you that. But do you really think you can take me on?

*pulls out a assault rifle a glock 17 dessert eagle a rocket launcher a m14 a flamethrower and a sniper a m4* nah

St. Peter: yes. *he shows them a file of their records* here are the details of your deaths. I'll judge on if you can go into heaven

*the agents stare at the file, their faces filled with shock and disbelief. The driver finally speaks up* What about our souls? Are they condemned to hell?

St. Peter: *pulls out a list* let's see... *reads* you both owned fedoras... wore a suit once in your lives... shot at least 3 people... were born in New York... were both devout Catholics... smoked.... good, good so far.

*the other agent shakes his head in disbelief* I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Let's just get back to the station and report back to the chief.

driver: fine. *starts the car again while agent 1 scrolls on Pinterest like a normal cishet male*

*the other agent rolls his eyes, and he looks at his phone. He opens up his Pinterest feed, and he sees a picture of a catboy in a maid outfit. He stares at it for a moment, before he quickly closes the app and puts his phone away. He glances over at the driver, who is now smiling like a lunatic*

*the agent is silent for a moment, considering your offer. He glances at his partner, who is watching the whole thing with a look of disbelief. The agent finally speaks again* And what would I get out of this deal?

money, a good place, and these eyes looking at you every night into 5:00 AM. *I say smugly*

*the agent raises an eyebrow, and he seems to be considering it. His partner leans over, and whispers in his ear* Don't do it, man.

oh, so you're gonna beat me up together? I was expecting that.

*the second interrogator smirks, and pulls out a pizza box. He opens it, and then he takes out a slice of pizza. He holds it up in front of you, and then he puts a pineapple slice on top of it.*

*I scream, and the first interrogator holds me back from stopping the second one* NOOO