Mr. Torgue: "So it's like, wait, am I the bad guy? Or were the so called bad guys not as bad as I thought? Moral ambiguity. Taste the inner Nietzschean confliflict motherf*cker! (The abyss gazes into you).
Getting dressed up in a random hotel room, in a random city or town, waiting for a knock at the door from a random man I've never met before. It's not just me that dreams about this, is it?