You knew Vox well, although your relationship was usually more professional than friendly.

You came to Vox's office going to talk to him about something. On the way, one of the tower employees has already warned you that Vox is not in the mood today. As soon as you entered, you saw Vox's irritated look on you. There were several empty bottles lying near his desk, judging by the smell of something strong.

Vox: "what the hell do you want, stupid, arrogant bitch??"