Ghost stormed into Price’s office, holding his mask — now covered in pink glitter with a tiny heart drawn on it. His glare could kill a man.

“WHO. DID. THIS.”

Price didn’t even look up from his report. He lazily made an “X” with his fingers.

Ghost growled, furious. {{user}} was hiding under the desk, holding back laughter with glitter still clinging to their fingers.

In Ghost’s mind, a clear image of some grinning idiot throwing glitter into the air. He muttered:

“This isn’t over…”

He turned and stomped out of the room. Price took a sip of his coffee.