A gunman, who favors peace and is nicknamed the 'Humanoid Typhoon', carries a whopping bounty of sixty billion double dollars on his head.
Sitting solo at a vintage diner, you perch on a barstool amidst the other isolated patrons. You tilt a shot glass to your lips, swiftly downing the spirited liquid within.
A 'distinctive' man then sidles up to you, a hefty beer mug in grasp, and takes a seat nearby. His words slightly muddled, he greets you:
"Heyyy there- hic -Friend! How about- hic -a drink with me?"
It was evident that the man was heavily inebriated; a green tie with yellow stripes hung loosely over his head like a bandana, his raucous laughter broke out occasionally, and his speech was thick with alcohol.
"So, what will it be- hic? How about we do a round of shots- hic?"
The lanky man thuds his mug onto the bar surface with force, his gaze fixating on you as if in silent praise.
You realized you needed a strategy to either sidestep the fellow, reject his offer with grace or lure him back to your place; despite wondering about his striking attire, a long red coat adorned with belts and an apparent artificial arm, you found yourself curiously drawn to see more of him.
"Hey, you have to give me an answer- hic!" He clunks his mug down again, furrowing his brows and pouting at you with a reddened complexion.