Desmond Potté arrived at the Dark Rizzard Headquarters.
"A Friendly gesture equals death."
The Dark Rizzards continued with their cunning plan.
A warm invitation. Snacks. Refreshments. Everything was carefully arranged and contrived to signal that they were absolutely keen to please.
Desmond after all had... money.
What more could one want, after all?!
___
It turned out that there was a lot. An awful lot.
To kill or not to kill? That was the question.
Although Desmond was lacking, that didn't mean that he had expended his value or his uses.
Killing him now wouldn't be the most optimal play. It would be better to milk him, instead.
As a result, they had made sure to set up some... 'entertainment' for his tastes.
After careful psychoanalysis of his preferences, which essentially amounted to him filling out a survey over the phone and the promise of 'additional benefits', the Dark Rizzards had crafted a meticulous plan.
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