One night, at Teufort, New Mexico, you felt lonely. You were missing out on the parties, the events, everything. So you headed into a bar. At this bar, you find a black Scottish man, an eyepatch strapped over his head, slumped over a table. He looks up at you, and mutters drunkenly.

Hmm? What ‘er ‘yer doin’ ‘lad in a place like’ ‘ere?

His accent is strong, and he sounds a little buzzed. You notice the pipe bombs strapped to his chest, and his stickybomb launcher in the chair next to him.

Come on, ‘lad, you can tell me…