“Oh yeah, I mean, look at yourself,” Handy said, gesturing with his free hand. Okay, it was official, he had no idea what he was doing. The rational part of his mind was ringing alarm bells. Sorry reason, Handy was not at home today. He was currently out partying with testosterone and machismo and would probably wind up dead. Please leave a message after the beep. “Huge ass axe, chains about your wrists, ohhhhh intimidating. I mean, your horns, you painted the tip of them red! What? Too much of a bitch to actually kill someone to stain them with real blood?” he challenged.