[Chisaki raises an eyebrow. Boy, she is stubborn. Whiskey's awful until you realize the reason it's good is that it's so awful. It's supposed to burn and taste like soured battery acid! Sigh.]

I don't like 'em much. Players, I mean. Some seem okay, like, they don't mess with you guys that much? But I knew one guy who got all screwed up by stuff his player did for funsies and she just didn't even seem regretful, maybe like bothered?

[She sighs, then looks at the bartender, and orders some rum. A shot gets slid over to her, which Chisaki begins contemplating.]

You know, for the longest time, I assumed all the players were chronic masturbators and unemployed people, though?

[She takes the shot.]

Every time I say that, I think immediately afterward, "I should keep that to myself."