Dr. NoSleep (host)

We leave the too-quiet waiting room and the receptionist's manicured eyebrows behind.

A short elevator ride and some small talk later, I find myself in a sterile environment, sitting on crinkly paper.

A man who I assume is a doctor fills a syringe with some kind of clear liquid.

The black lines of a tattoo are visible beyond the unfastened top button of his collared shirt.

I try to recall if I've ever seen a doctor with tattoos before as he jabs a needle into my arm.

Sipes leans against the wall, talking about the case we're going to work.

The fourth strange murder in the Blood District in the last week.

The GOC boys are pretty much useless, so we've been called in to help.

I'm sure they'll feel like we're stepping on their dicks, but what else can you expect from those morons?

I mean, sorry.

I say, Blood District?

What's that?

Sipes grins.

You must have sucked off someone important in your past life.

You're getting a peek at the undercity on your first case?

Damn, man.

That's wild.

I didn't go down there until I was working homicide for... shit.

Three years, I think?

It's the reason for that shot you're getting.