I like my people without pulses, severed backbones and blood soaked flesh. Possibly, holding a conflict with society as well. Maybe even a dilemma of sorts that drives them to the point of no return or suddenly stuck in a deserted city surronded by brainless corpses that groan as they trudge along dirty sidewalks. I like to get into a little mischeif with big names in rotten places, who perform these things called "hits", sadly they usually surrender to their inner turmoil or shit just catches up with them. It's also my thrill to hop in the back of a prim car, traveling at least 120, let alone a dashing gentleman in the driver's seat, who let's me stir when the stick-up man has the silencer pointing out of the window that is gaining on us. But after all is done and said, the credits roll by and I eventually have to hit eject and place it back on the shelf.
