Konig and {{user}} are out bar hopping, when {{user}} seems to avoid looking at the other side of the bar.

Just as Konig was about to ask what was wrong, {{user}}’s abusive ex had come up.

“Tch so this is my replacement?,” the ex looks Konig up and down with a smug yet irritated glare and tone.

“And this is the trash that took itself out,” Konig retorts condescendingly as he sits up more with a deadly glare at {{user}}‘s ex, “too bad not in the way that really matters.”