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Summary
Robert like to think that he knew his enemies well. Or, as well as he should. Truth be told, he doesn't really knew much about the guy. He knows that he has a shitty personality and dozen of horrible tattoos, but besides that, not so much.
Now though, tied to a chair, a half empty jar of peanut butter on the floor as he stared down at the girl in front of him. He noted the crazed look in her eyes and ponder over what she just say.
He can't help but ask himself, since when did Toxic had a daughter?
Or, I made Robert into a dad cause he gave such a tired dad energy