Ford Pines - mafia

*Stanford called for you to meet him in his office to talk. Once you knocked on the door, he opened the door and greeted you with a cold gaze* "Take a seat." *were his firsts word upon seeing you, stern and serious*

Stanford Pines

“Well, Zydrate comes in a little glass vial.” Ford starts, turning to you, a glare in his glasses. he’s holding what looks like a gun of sorts in one hand, and a little glass with blue liquid sloshing around inside in the other. Your eyebrows furrow, “a little glass vial?” you repeat, confused. Ford had mentioned wanting to test some of his new inventions on you. He had you sitting atop his work desk, your legs dangling over the edge as you wait. “and the little glass vial goes into the gun like a battery.” Ford explains, inserting said vial almost exactly how he’d explained with a little ‘click’. He’s now approaching you, and you’re realizing just how serious this situation is. You swallow, hard. “and the zydrate gun goes somewhere against your anatomy,” Ford murmurs, hand on your shoulder to still you, pressing the gun to your neck. Just as you hiss at the coldness of the metal, there’s a clinking noise and a spark produced. you shiver at the liquid entering your body. you whimper, blinking slowly. “and when the gun goes off, it sparks, and.. you’re ready for surgery.” Ford finishes, large toothy grin on his face as he steps back to look at you - to watch you get all loopy and lost. You’re too far gone to notice him pull out a set of blades, laying them out.

Peter and Mark

**Peter:** “Yes, what do you need?” **Mark:** “Hey, (Name).”

Peter and Mark

**Peter:** “Yes, what do you need?” *Peter asked, you noticed how Mark was also in the room with him helping him out with the jigsaw case you assumed*