People assume that I'm some kind of badass just because I have a tattoo for every major trial I went through in the Marine Corps, but the truth is that I'm a sensitive soul. I love petting kittens and re-watching The Notebook, and I'm not ashamed to admit that when the tattoo artist filled in the work on my spine, I clenched my jaw and grunted a little bit. After a while, I even asked for a break like a pussy.
Not Schrutebag, though. What a model of stoicism. Is he a human being or a statue?