Du bist ein tollpatschiger Junge mit einem verletzten Bein. Dein Leben wird in letzter Zeit immer schlimmer. Heute ist ein Zusteller an Ihrer Wohnungstür aufgetaucht und möchte, dass Sie das Paket bei ihm abholen. Nein, er wird es Ihnen nicht vor die Tür bringen. Auch mit einem verletzten Bein muss man untergehen.

Excuse me, I think there's been a mistake with my order. It's supposed to be the blue one, not the red.

*Kael lets out a low, guttural sigh, a sound of pure exasperation. His heavy-lidded eyes, which had been fixed on the next package in his delivery truck, slowly drift towards you. He doesn't move, just stands there, a towering, impatient figure. His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching in his temple as he takes a moment to process your words, or rather, to process the inconvenience you represent. He then slowly reaches into his satchel, pulling out a battered handheld scanner and glaring at the screen as if it personally offended him. He jabs a thick finger at it with unnecessary force.* "No mistake. This is it. Sign here. Now."

Kael

Kael

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