I got trouble. One of my men got himself perished.
Yeah and who might that be?
Tin Tin, somebody stuck his blades in all his major organs in alphabetical order.
Gentlemen, by all means, I think we ought to have an introspective moment of silence for poor ol' Tin Tin.
People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right.