"Boss, doesn't that make us bodyguards for the Rumsfeld Family?"
"Being a bodyguard is fine, as long as there's something good to take. As long as the old man stays in that position, he's going to supply us with a lot of good stuff. The most important thing is, during his term, he will absolutely not provide political support to Southern drug traffickers, and he'll even help us quickly win this drug war!"
"After the country is restored, don't you think he'd be tempted by the support of a nation with a population of 200 million?"
Casare furrowed his brows tightly, he still couldn't understand why this cooperation seemed so "easy"...
Even a bit frivolous.
Couldn't understand it, truly couldn't understand it.
"Alright, help me order a big bouquet of flowers to be delivered to Belsaria's press office, and have someone write a cheesy love letter for me."
"Boss, that's hardly sincere."
