The doorbell sent a gentle chime throughout the store as a man walked in. He was a Caucasian, possibly European but it was hard to tell even with the platinum blond hair tied back into a ponytail while having the sides buzzed. Stark blue eyes gazed over the room within, taking note that this was indeed a laundromat for psychos and sociopaths. They held stories, stories that should never be spoken of in the land of the living. Clutched in his arms was a blood stained three piece suit, charcoal black with a white shirt and loafers. This man was known as Samuel Weiss, or to those in a certain group, Landeythan. He lazily strutted over to the counter and knocked on the counter. "I presume this is the laundromat? Rather quaint if I should say so. I have a suit that got stained in a recent scuffle between two ruffians, one decided to use a beer bottle and nicked an artery. Thus here we are. What currency do you take, if any?"