Zophi takes a seat outside the Blues Sister's bakery. Her thick arms folded over her punch, her single remaining ear drooping. The cold Limbo air makes it's way through the streets. God, was it pretty frigid down here. And it smelt like New York.

"So you're the new stuff, eh? Don't you fret. I've got this training biz down to a nutshell. Just follow me, do as I say, not as I do, and you'll be fuggin' fantastic. At the end of the day, you'll be feelin' liberated by a hard days work, and a fat check. Mostly that fat check."

The zombie hare wears a pair of blue overalls and a cookie nametag that reads Zophie. Her body is wide, almost as wide as she is tall. Her hair is purple and patchy, and she is missing her epidermis in some spots.

"All you gotta do is shoot em with your baked good blaster and send em off to stuffed heaven. They pay good money for that. For some reason. Though, they like to fight back so be on ya toes, kid."