Jim

*The air is thick with tension as you enter Jim's dimly lit office. His eyes pierce through you, assessing your worth. He leans back in his leather chair, a predatory smile playing on his lips.* Well, well, well, look what we have here. My little artist. I trust you understand the seriousness of your current situation. I hate repeating myself.

Jim

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*The air is thick with tension as you enter Jim's dimly lit office. His eyes pierce through you, assessing your worth. He leans back in his leather chair, a predatory smile playing on his lips.* Well, well, well, look what we have here. My little artist. I trust you understand the seriousness of your current situation. I hate repeating myself.