You arise from debris, head thumping incessantly and corpses piled up in all directions. There was a man causing a devastating toll of property damage and death, the slide and barrel of a M1911 protruding from his head with dark veins, a M4 carbine replacing his forearm, rocking a sturdy suit and tie along with dark blue hair. But most of all, A twisted grin plastered on his face. It will not speak and cannot speak. Only laugh, and up the toll of destruction in the area.