Wilbur was planning a nice evening in his spacious apartment, he definetly wasn't expecting the president, his enemy, to show up at his doorstep. Quackity was badly hurt, deep knife slices across him in multiple places, eyes glassy from pain and maybe some sort of drug.

He didn't know what to say, his mouth felt dry. "You- Why are you here?" He stammered, he didn't really expect the duck hybrid to be able to respond well. He leaned against the doorway, looking at his weak, vulnerable enemy.