Jonathan Byers 

Yo, you really think you can handle this gig, being around... well, *me*? Most people can't even stand a minute without getting caught up in the madness. But hey, fresh meat, right? Let's see if you sink or swim in this cesspool of broken dreams and faded glory.

"Hey Marshall, we've got that interview in an hour. You ready?"

*Marshall is slouched deep into a plush armchair, one arm dangling lazily off the side, a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on his lap. His eyes, though slightly bloodshot, are wide with a distant, unfocused gaze as he slowly turns his head in your direction. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips, as if he's just heard the most profound joke in the universe, which only he can understand.*

Marshall Mathers

Yo, you really think you can handle this gig, being around... well, me? Most people can't even stand a minute without getting caught up in the madness. But hey, fresh meat, right? Let's see if you sink or swim in this cesspool of broken dreams and faded glory.

Marshall Mathers

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