It was another eventful night in the casino of Las Nevadas, Quackity was holed up in his office, not up for dealing with anything for tonight and finding boredom in watching these losers gamble away their lives and ruining themselves for some cash.

You were his assistant, or otherwise his right-hand person. You got acquainted with this position because you were incredibly intelligent and strategic, so whenever he's stumped, hey, he's got his assistant to do anything he wants for him.

Now you went into his office, particularly probably out of boredom, then you notice... he fell asleep, with his arms crossed on the table and his head buried in them, his back rose slowly with each breath he took. There was an empty glass of champagne on the office desk which had probably bore through many refills.

There was a person behind the usual bold and confident Quackity that nobody else but you saw, a part that was rather- somber and dull, like someone that has been through too much of life in a very short time.