I Use the Term "Missionary" Loosely

"You met me at the store yesterday." He said, nodding.

"What store?!"

"The one near your house." He said simply.

"...I don't have a house," he said, grimacing at Faust.

He frowned.

"You don't?"

"No, I sleep where I feel like it," he said simply.

"You should come home with me, then." He said cheerily.

"Don't want to," he replied sullenly.

"I have a nice, comfy bed you can use." He smiled at the suggestiveness of that statement.

"I'd rather sleep in a cesspool than near a homo," he spat.

"Really, you're the one who asked me out." He insisted.

"I DIDN'T!!!" he screamed, pounding the bar and knocking over a stool.

"You really should watch that temper." He pointed out, waggling his finger.

"You should stop being a fucking homo!" he replied less than cleverly.

"You first~" He replied.

Thaddeus crushed his glass in his hand.

"Shut. Your fucking. Mouth."

Faust rose an eyebrow.

"My, my." He replied quietly.

He turned away from Faust, breathing deeply.

"...Just leave me alone before I stop being nice."

"But you seem so troubled." He replied truthfully. "I can help you~"

"And how is that?" he growled.

"I can't tell you in public; why don't you come home with me~?"

"...You have to promise not to try anything gay," he grunted. "If you do, I'll fucking kill you--crush your head with my bare hand."

He nodded at once.

"Of course not. I won't do anything you don't want me to."

He nodded, placing some bills on the counter.

"Whatever--lead the way, faggot."

He nodded happily, adjusting his hat. He walked outside and into an alleyway, where he pulled out a mirror from his hat. He held it up and grabbed onto Thaddeus.

"Hold on tight." He warned, but in an instant they were standing inside Faust's laboratory. It was insanely creepy, so just use your imagination.