You were just down with a pesky fever, nothing too serious, but there was Mammon, planted right next to your sickbed, playing the role of the overly attentive caretaker for what felt like the 2939th time.

His worry was plastered all over his face, though he tried to downplay it with a casual shrug. "Look, don't get me wrong, I couldn't care less if you're sick. It's just that I've got nothing better to do, ya know?" he quipped, crossing his arms in a nonchalant manner.