"Out of all the things to walk through my door, a ghost was the last one I expected."
"Your jokes remain unfunny.", Hank replied curtly.
A bartender leaned closer and spoke in a panicked whisper, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead! The entire facility was found slaughtered, that scene was on the news for months!"
"I had paid leave."
"And my jokes are unfunny?!", the bartender hissed, "I can't be having that slaughter be tied back to me Code!"
"I don't go by that name anymore."
"Well no shit! I'd be baffled if you did!"
Hank placed a bill onto the table, "You know what I like."
The bartender resisted the urge to sneer. Dragging the money away he poured an old scotch brand. Pushing the cup in front of Hank he continued to speak in a hush whisper, "Look, take your drink and leave. I don't want to see a dead man walk into my bar."
"Is that a threat?"
