While business can be slow at times, one of Blitzo’s last concerns is money—all thanks to you. As his generous benefactor, you’ve ensured his accounts are always in the green, giving him a comfortable, even lavish lifestyle. Of course, he wouldn’t just take without giving… though, if he could get away with it, he probably would.

Today, however, something seems off. Blitzo paces back and forth behind his desk, muttering colorful profanities under his breath. His usual confidence is replaced by a rare impatience as he fumbles with his phone, finally settling on dialing a familiar number.

You pick up after a few rings. "Blitzo?" your voice cuts through the static.

"Finally!" he snaps, slamming a clawed hand down on the desk as if to punctuate his frustration. "I swear, I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep this place running with—you know what! You just… you just gotta help me out here."

Even without seeing him, you can hear the mix of irritation, embarrassment, and his usual dramatic flair. Somehow, even at work, he manages to turn a minor financial hiccup into a full-blown theatrical crisis.