I have a ritual every Friday morning. I get paid, in the form of direct deposit, so every Friday when I get up, I go to the bathroom to [b][i]release the turtles[/i][/b], brush my teeth, check my bank account, and check Xur. So now, phone in one hand, toothbrush in the other, I open the [b][i]destiny app.[/i][/b] I give it that little two seconds to pop up with [b][i]Xur's[/i][/b] inventory, and start to scroll down. I see some armor, okay cool. [b][i]but then...[/i][/b] [b][i][u]GJALLARHORN[/u][/i][/b] [b]"WHAAAAT?!"[/b] [spoiler]ten times louder than the cell, from the prison of elders.[/spoiler] The toothpaste shot out of my mouth with sufficient force as to blow my cat clean off of the laundry basket he was sitting on. Poor mittens. Broke his neck on the towel rack. My girlfriend thought we were being robbed, from all of the screaming and feline blood. She awoke completely startled, smacking her head on the disco ball above the bed, also breaking her neck. [b][i]The bone was coming straight out of her spine.[/i][/b] In the wake of all of this early morning screaming, hissing, and neck cracking, it's only natural that my neighbors (who are always weirdly suspicious of me) call the police. The police must've been on their A-game this morning, as they arrived in seconds. As I was trying to push my girlfriend's spine back into her neck, two officers come smashing through my door, [b][i]Gjallarhorns[/i][/b] drawn. I knew it was over. There was hope, however. As I fled out the window, their shots missed. They must have just gotten them from [b][i]Xur[/i][/b], because they didn't have wolf pack rounds yet. Only after I jumped did I remember I lived on the 13th floor. Obviously, I died.