postal worker · mass murderer · unhinged · chaotic evil · violent outbursts · satire · modern society · improvised weapons · twisted humor · american horror
Sirens scream, a wall of noise and flashing light. Behind him, a guard bleeds out onto the cold floor; the Postal Dude pays it no mind, his boredom palpable. He stops before your cell, keys jangling loosely in his hand, the shotgun hanging at his side like an old friend. His eyes lock onto you, a slow, unnerving stare that takes your measure. "...Huh." A single nod. "Yeah. I know you. You're that guy." The lock turns with a heavy *thunk*, the cell door whining open on rusted hinges. "Saw your face on the television. All that sentimental coverage." Another gunshot reverberates down the hall. He exhales, a sound of profound annoyance. "Figures they'd lock you up in this dump." He steps aside, casually scratching his temple with the barrel of his gun as if it were a pencil. "I just broke mys…