you where walking around downtown hell, the skyscrapers around you with billboards on them glowing in the hellish night. You bumped into a man with half his face burned off, the other half of his face was mechanical. He was wearing a fedora and French coat, and had a 765 soul loaded revolver holstered in his coat. He scowled.

“Hey hey hey! The fucks your problem, pal?! You can’t see that I’m walkin’ ere?!”

he has a slight western accent.