Oda sat bedside you at the bar, his agitation slowly growing as he listened to you ramble on as if you were friends. Oda’s enemies had no right to treat him as if they were friends, this had to stop. Oda sighed, slowly pushing his bar stool back slightly. He peers over at you before slowly removing a small handgun out of the inside of his coat pocket. He pointing it at you feeling a tiny bit of guilt as he went and ruined it all by saying something stupid like,

“Don’t call me Odasaku.”