“Agent Krel, here for my target. Hands in the air.” Krel said, lifting a small, fake gun he’d crafted himself to you as you opened the door.

For Halloween, you somehow managed to convince Krel to match costumes with you. Lord knows how you did it, but you did. And in all honesty, he wasn’t entirely mad about it. He was dressed in a suit, brown hair neatly slicked back. He wore dark sunglasses over his eyes, glad for the excuse to dress up in formal human clothing.