It's about whatever I want it to be, because I'm the boss! [ And he bellows out a single, boisterous HA into the air. But then Garrot exhales, returning to his closest attempt at normalcy. ] Sometimes, when we're doing things like fighting diseases, we learn that some random-ass compound will, when shifted fourty-five degrees, exposed to sunlight, and given a low charge from magitek, it explodes and everything within fifty feet smells like rotting peanut butter for a week. [ He looks both incredibly proud of himself and like a horribly mischievous pre-teen. Whoever gave Garrot this power probably made a horrible choice. ]

But then there's the really cool stuff, like magitek prosthesis. New arms! [ And then he laughs, because he thinks this is the Coolest. Thing. Ever! Garrot absolutely loves his job, most of the time. ]