The more I think about it, the more I lean towards the Angel.<br/><br/>Figure, sure, the Skinner's got a lot of cool shit and we all respect her for that. Somebody's gotta do it, right? But let's be honest here, c'mon: who the fuck cares. Folks out there shootin' and stabbin' each other for fresh tires on a hog, bleedin' all over the fuckin' place, dust in their nose so deep they taste shit when they sneeze, they don't give a fuck about the latest faberge egg recreation Queen Cuntsalot made in her parlor. Sure, they might say it's great if they think they'll get to fuck her for it, but that's about it. Nah, none of these assholes care about any of that shit.<br/><br/>Shot of whiskey, chemostab and a heartjump, though? They'll remember<em>that</em>shit. That's what matters. Not the shiniest shiny added to a collection of crap nobody wants, nobody needs and nobody's gonna die for the lack of it.  You want a skinjob, sure, go see the Skinner. She'll do you nice.<br/><br/>You want to<em>keep</em>your skin? Yeah, good luck gettin' her to help you with that.