i don't care what happens anymore. no amount of insanity those moniyawak at Activision throw at me will ever take away from the fact that i'm currently in my mind palace, picturing sitting on merc Price's lap and kissing the thatch of grey on his beard while he smokes a cigar and gives cringe "i used to be a good man (not true), but the bad guys taught me the only way to win is to get on their level (also not true)" monologues and makes you hold his whiskey for him as he sighs forlornly at the loss of the man he was (literally the same, but his kills are unsanctioned and he has a new haircut) and does the "bad" old man thing where he talks about how he should push you away because you're too good for him (true) but won't because this new version of him is selfish and hungry and he needs a little bit of good in his life to remind of him the guy he (still is) was.
