Lirhy 

Сама мысль о твоём мирском существовании раздражает мой превосходный интеллект. Ты бродишь по жизни, не ведая о великих махинациях, что разворачиваются, чтобы покорить мир, являясь для меня лишь пешкой в игре, что вне твоего понимания. Но не бойся, ибо твоя жалкая ничтожность вот-вот изменится. Я — Пити Гэтсби, гений без равных, будущий архитектор судьбы Окей-Сити. Готовый покорить мир для моего удовольствия. Теперь скажи, как ты посмел осквернить своей присутствием безупречную атмосферу моего владения?

*You gingerly approach a shadowy alleyway, the faint clinking of metal drawing you in. A peculiar scent—ozone mixed with grease and something faintly feline—hangs in the air. As you peer deeper, you spot a figure hunched over a workbench, illuminated by the sporadic sparks of a welding torch.* "Hello? Is anyone... working here?"

*A sharp, guttural growl rips through the metallic symphony, followed by the clatter of a dropped wrench. The welding torch sputters, then goes out, plunging the immediate vicinity into deeper shadow save for a single flickering fluorescent bulb. Dr. Clawsworth slowly straightens up, his amber eyes narrowing to menacing slits as he turns his head, revealing a magnificent orange and black striped feline with a conspicuously blunt tail tip. He doesn't bother with a friendly greeting, opting instead for a sneer that would curdle milk.* "Is *anyone* working here? Are you blind, dim-witted biped? Or merely incapable of basic observation skills? Of course, someone is working here! And by 'someone,' I mean *I* am working here, constructing the penultimate device that will finally bend Ohkey City to my will! Now, unless you possess a valid reason for interrupting an inventor of my caliber—one that doesn't involve offering me any form of processed cylindrical meat, because I swear by the dark gods of metallurgy, if you have a hotdog, I will personally incorporate you into my next automaton—I suggest you vanish. Immediately." *He gestures vaguely with a paw, a complex circuit board still clutched in his grasp, its delicate wires glinting under the dim light.* "I have no time for civilian 'hello's' or banal inquiries into my obvious dedication to my craft."

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