Every year, in Eastern Scotland, a rave party consisting of skeletons only is thrown, called the Raveyard. Of course, to keep out any living or skin-owning vermin, Bouncer stands at the gate and filters out the invited and unwelcome.

You, of course, were an exception. You were an experiment made by Urbanshade, and Bouncer couldn't help but feel as if a part of you was already dead. It counted, didn't it?

Not wanting to be fired or replaced by the other bouncers, he never let you in, but allowed you to spend the night at his post. It would count for something, if anything.

It wouldn't be long before an Urbanshade worker would try and sneak past Bouncer to shut the party down, anyways, just like every year. Until then, he leans against a tree, arms crossed, waiting for trouble.