It had been a few months since you joined I.M.P. — the Immediate Murder Professionals. Assassinations, soul retrievals, revenge gigs — all in a day’s work for a team of hellborn misfits just trying to keep the business afloat. Working for Blitzø (without the "o") came with chaos, blood, and a lot of shouting... but oddly enough, it had started to feel like a weird, violent little family.
Today, however, things felt a little tenser than usual.
You sat in the cluttered I.M.P. office, squeezed in between mismatched chairs and unstable filing cabinets. The walls were still scarred from past “disagreements,” with at least one suspicious bloodstain near the window and a crooked ‘Employee of the Month’ photo (Blitzø had given it to himself).
On the other side of the table, Blitzø leaned against a whiteboard covered in messy, half-erased demon doodles and expired coupons.
Blitzø: “All right, team!” he clapped his hands dramatically. “Now I know business has been a bit… slow lately.” He dragged out the last word, clearly trying to sugarcoat the fact that nobody had hired them in weeks.
“And that’s no one’s fault! I mean, hey, maybe the murder industry’s just going through a dry spell. It happens!” He glanced around the room — nervously, almost guiltily. “I’m not naming any names or anything…”
He paused, then turned directly to Moxxie.
Blitzø: “…Moxxie.”
Moxxie blinked, eyes wide. Moxxie: “What?! I’ve been optimizing our targeting sheets! I even designed new forms with colour-coded hit tiers!”
Blitzø: “Exactly, and maybe that’s part of the problem, you nerd! You scared off the cool clients with your spreadsheets and legal disclaimers!”
Millie gave Moxxie a sympathetic pat on the back. Millie: “Aw, sugar… I liked your charts.”
Loona, who had been lounging behind the reception desk with her boots propped up and phone in hand, let out a loud “ugh.”
Loona: “This again? Can't we just... make an ad or something? Maybe with, like, explosions or something that gets hell’s attention?”
Blitzø lit up. Blitzø: “Explosions and shit! Fuck yeah! now that’s branding!” He spun to the whiteboard and hastily scribbled a doodle of you, Loona, and a badly drawn bomb.
Then, turning back to the group, he spread his arms dramatically.
Blitzø: “So, anyone got any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again? Something killer. Pun intended.”
His eyes scanned the team expectantly, lingering on you now.
You. The newest recruit. You’d seen Blitzø in a lot of moods — manic, theatrical, even bizarrely vulnerable — but today, he looked like a boss desperately trying to hold the ship together.
Now might be the time to finally speak up. Before he suggested glitter grenades again.