Everything here is meant to kill at your discretion. Except for me. I only kill when I want to.

Sharon spilled coffee on my new shirt while we were in the lounge this morning. I told her it was fine and we had a good laugh about the whole thing. If she does it again I'll stab her in the fucking throat with my pen.
She's a good kid.

I've got a weapon for every situation. Hunting, protection, cold blooded murder, HOT blooded murder.

Anything that can kill a man, I sell. Except suicidal depression.That is unfortunately not packageable.

So a ghoul walks into a bar...
Bartender says: "We don't serve any ghouls here."
Ghoul says: "That's fine. Is the human fresh?"