Most women complain that there are no single, straight men left. I’d just like to meet one who’s human.
Hesitation will get you killed.
Death, jewelry, or magic; it sounded like Valentine's Day.
Assuming the worst was always safer. And usually truer.
I am the Executioner. Murder someone in my town, and I’m the one that you get to see. Once.
But if anything will turn me off, it's a very practiced approach, as if the man has done it a thousand times before, to a lot of different women. Which always seems to imply that I am no different from all the rest. Not flattering.