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He loved jokes. Internet culture. Twitter. Tumblr. Face book. He really did love it, if just because it enabled him to post depression memes and really stupid dadist style things that made him laugh even when he hit a low point. What wasn't a joke however, was his current mood. It was the kind of mood you'd tag 'BIG MOOD' on twitter, combined with a picture of a small child staring listlessly at a single soggy french fry. It was that kind of feeling. That kind of mood.

Tapping the scabbard on his leg, Vladamirite debated on what to do with his version of a soggy french fry.
Namely, the corpse of a teachers assistant at the local community college.

Dump it in a rive? Out in the wood? A trash bin? Go tell someone to send a body snatching youma? Like, what to do? He hadn't meant to kill the guy but apparently, hitting someone in the head just right with a metal scabbard was... well. Not so good.

So Vladimirite looked at the corpse like one would the last soggy french fry on a plate.
Did he really wanna fish what he started?

The sudden egery spike that was not friendly made Vlad tense. Really? Right now? Of all times? He really didn't need this.

Groaning, he looked to the woman, then to the corpse.

"You know- the usual stuff."