A soft sigh sounded the dimly lit room, with the tapping of metal to the metal floor following. “Hm… Not going to show…” a figure softly spoke in the near-darkness of the room, as he stared off into space, taking a puff of his cigar, his hands shoved in his black duster’s pockets.
	Ruffling could be heard off in the distance along with a creak from the wooden door opening and closing. “You know, there could have been an easier place to meet up for this.” Spoke another voice, more feminine than the last. He returned her remark with a light chuckle, turning towards the newly entered person.
	“Regardless of circumstances or preferences, we’re in a solitary enough place. You have what I need, I have what you need. Exchange and then we walk off.” He spoke, taking another puff from his cigar, the smoldering tip lighting up his furred face, pulling out a red folder from his duster, setting it on a nearby table.
	“Yes, yes, you’re all business, no play, I know. I read my dossier.” The feminine voice spoke once more, pulling out a blue folder and setting it down on the table closer to her. He began to walk across the room, his wooden sandals slowly sounding off in repetition, with return echoes around the room. She followed in suit, rolling her eyes.
	As they reached their folders, he picked up the blue folder and turned around, to see her picking up the red folder. He drew a silenced pistol from his duster and unloaded a few shots into her chest. She froze, stunned by the sudden oncome of pain as she grasped her chest and looked at it in the dim light from space and the bulb in the room.
	Falling to her knees and clutching over as she bled through several holes, he begun to stroll towards her. “Sorry.” He spoke softly, bringing the pistol up to her head. “I need both folders. Any final smart remarks for now then?” he added, chuckling. She inhaled deeply and gasped. A hand went to her headset as she yelled through it, “HALP, N’ILDRASK IS KILL!” A shot fired from the pistol, and a thud was heard from the room. He took the blue folder and dragged her body through maintenance out into a disposals unit that he knew vented to space. Strapping her PDA and ID from her, he shoved the body in disposals and ejected it, running off into one of the pod-bays.
	Another sigh came from him as he reached his destination, knowing that he had to ‘die a glorious death’. He always thought it was crazy for assignments like this. If he had to get something and keep it on him, why did they want him to die too? Shaking his head, he sighed, opening his PDA up and purchasing a chainsaw with the last of his telecrystals. Revving it up, he turned it towards himself and yelled over general communications, “ALLAHU SNACKBAR!”
	Shortly after, his body was found, a chainsaw cut from his lower chest, cleaving his body up to his head. Blood was splattered everywhere and reports of the clown having a chainsaw were begun to show about through the station.