"Ahhhh! The night air is sweet on my skin, as always." Wyrm turned to the man sitting next to him. "It smells of carnage, blood, debauchery, and most of all, luscious plunder for the taking. What glory can be found in riches. Don't you agree, Mr. Maybury?" Mr. Maybury made no reply. Wyrm laughed. They were speeding towards his next heist, Midas Jewelry. It was a rather successful jewelry chain that specialized in collecting pure sapphires. The mere thought of it made Wyrm's tongue flick between his sharp teeth. He leaned forward to the driver of his limousine and said, "How about you play something a little bit more upbeat for our dear friend Mr. Maybury. He doesn't seem to be enjoying this tune." The driver looked at him skeptically but then changed the CD, switching from the blues to classical composition. Wyrm leaned back in his seat, satisfied, and turned once more to the man sitting next to him. "Well, Mr. Maybury? Is this tune to your liking?" Mr Maybury was silent and Wyrm laughed wickedly. It was exceedingly difficult to answer that sort of question when you had swallowed poisoned rum and your tongue had swelled to three times it's normal size and choked you to death.