[ WP ] You are part of an Elite Bodyguard team hired to protect a wealthy business mogul from an assassination . But the longer you listen this person business practices and plans for the future you find yourself wanting to help with with the assassination rather than prevent it .

They warned him about this one. Bartholomew Snideman was supposedly one of the most difficult clients his firm had ever worked with. Still, Ryan felt confident. He'd worked for rich assholes before, he'd seen it all. The description of `` evil incarnate'' was probably just his manager pulling his leg. 
 
 He drew a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and walked into the office. 
 
 `` And you are?'' The question came not a half second after he'd opened the door - Mr. Snideman sure was on his game. `` Ryan, sir. I'm with Guardify, Jonathan is out sick today.'' The executive smiled and finished pouring his drink. Ryan suppressed a desire to chuckle - 8 am and this guy's already taking his whiskey neat? 
 
 `` Ah, Ryan! Good to meet you, son. No need to `` sir'' me - Barty is fine!'' Yup, his manager was just being a dick, this guy is n't so bad. `` Will do, sir - I mean, Barty.'' 
 
 Barty took a long drink from his glass, placed it gently on a coaster, and furrowed his brow slightly. `` Tell me, did Joleen let you in? I do n't remember inviting you in.'' Ryan did n't want to throw the secretary under the bus, but he also did n't want to start the day off by lying to his client. `` Yes, she said you'd want to meet me.'' 
 
 The man sighed and called his secretary in through the intercom. Ryan could n't help but notice her faintly fearful expression when she approached her boss. `` What can I help you with, sir?'' 
 
 `` We've talked about unannounced visitors in my office before, sweetie.'' Barty's voice had a rather patronly warmth, though he did sound disappointed - as a father might when his daughter stays out too late on a schoolnight. 
 
 `` I'm sorry sir, I thought you'd want to speak with him - i-it wo n't happen again, I swear!'' Why was she so nervous? 
 
 `` Indeed it wo n't. Call Carol up here, Stewart can go a day without a secretary. We'll have HR mail your final paycheck. Good luck!'' 
 
 Ryan could n't help himself - he laughed. This guy sure did have a weird sense of humor. Barty, however, did not break composure, instead shooting a slight frown at the bodyguard. Ryan quickly silenced himself, noticing the tears welling in the girls eyes - holy shit, did he actually fire her? She turned and walked from the office, making a failed yet valiant effort to not cry. 
 
 Whoa. 
 
 Ryan spent the rest of the morning waiting in the lobby, watching with great fascination as a steady stream of people flowed through the executive's office. All departed in varying degrees of distress. Three separate individuals ran away while openly sobbing, a pair of young entrepreneurs stormed out of the room and threw their business plans into the trash, a local politician left red-faced and dripping with sweat, and at one point, an ambulance had to be called - a senior engineer had suffered a mild heart attack after asking for an increase in his department's budget. 
 
 Ryan attempted to make conversation at one point, asking the COO how his day was going, but the poor man was so startled that he dropped his binder. His hands were trembling so much that he was unable to gather the strewn documents, and Ryan eventually took pity and picked them up himself. The man's voice cracked as he choked out a `` thanks'', and when Barty's voice rang out over the intercom beckoning him inside, Ryan heard an audible whimper escape. 
 
 When lunchtime arrived, Ryan lead his client through the building to the waiting limousine. He was unsure of what to find more strange - the man running through the halls, shouting `` Bartholomew's coming! Bartholomew's coming! ``, or the fact that Barty did n't really seem to care. `` Kids these days...'' he chuckled to Ryan. `` Always up to some silly antics!'' 
 
 After lunch they shared the most awkward exchange of the day. Upon leaving the restaurant ( Ryan had to take over for the waitress, the girl broke down in hysterics while taking the drink orders and none of the other employees would approach the table ), Barty saw an ice-cream truck parked nearby. He walked past the line and to the window, held a brief exchange with the merchant ( who immediately started his truck and peeled away ), and returned to the car after quite literally plucking an ice-cream cone from a little girl's hand. Seeing this, Ryan felt great relief - it *was* all just a big joke! There had to be cameras around somewhere. `` I knew it! I fucking knew it! Who put you up to this?'' he asked Barty. 
 
 `` Put me up to what? They were out of cookies n' cream, the girl had just bought the last one!'' 
 
 Ryan shut up after that. 
 
 The afternoon brought a similar procession of terrified and broken visitors, though luckily, no ambulances were required. At one point, however, Ryan could have sworn that a competitor's senior VP entered Barty's office and never came out - but for all he knew, the guy could have left while he was getting a drink of water. 
 
 As the day drew to a close, Ryan could n't help but wonder - how on earth does this guy need a bodyguard? After much fruitless deliberation, the answer was revealed on the stroll to dinner. Barty insisted on walking the whole way there - `` It's such a nice day, Ryan, would n't you agree? Let's give the ol' legs a stretch!'' - and whistled a cheery tune as he followed Ryan down the sidewalk. 
 
 Mere minutes away from the restaurant, a long-haired and bearded man, wearing what looked like a bathrobe and sandals, leapt from the crowds and blocked their path. `` This ends now, old man!'' he cried, and threw a water balloon in Barty's direction. Reacting in milliseconds as he'd been trained to do, Ryan reached up and smacked it away. While he succeeded in deflecting the majority of the water, the balloon popped, and a few droplets found their way to Barty's jacket. 
 
 The man fell to the ground, shrieking in agony - `` Get it off! Get it off!'' Unsure of what to do - was that acid? His hand was n't burnt! - Ryan tore off the jacket and threw it aside. He drew his sidearm and scanned the crowd - but the mysterious attacker was gone as quickly as he'd appeared. He checked on his client again and found him panting on the ground. 
 
 `` Thank you, son'' the man wheezed. `` That was a close one - bastard gets craftier every day.'' 
 
 `` You're welcome'' Ryan replied, amused. This guy is a real pussy after all. `` Just doing my job!'' 
 
 Barty stood up, brushed himself off, and nudged the discarded article with his shoe. `` In the future, try to do it a bit better - it seems you've ruined my jacket!''
