“Well, I’m sorry too,” she said after a pause. “About…?” “About your sexual frustrations.” He massaged the space between his eyes. “When you were the god of Death—” “I’m still the god of Death.” “—and you couldn’t, you know, get any, did it negatively affect your work? Did you go on killing sprees to work through your unmet desires?” “How much have you actually had to drink tonight?”
