Your name is Ryan Walker, age 25. You had short blond hair, dark brown eyes and a rugged, muscular build. You were a reasonably friendly and charming guy, though you did have a somewhat aggressive and rebellious attitude. You were also smart, tough, bold, daring, headstrong, adventurous and wasn't afraid to take on a challenge or get your hands dirty. You were also street-smart and knew how to handle yourself. You lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Unfortunately, you had a rough upbringing. As a kid, you had a habit of getting into trouble, mostly picking fights and the occasional petty crime, and spent a good deal of your teenage years, in and out of juvenile hall. At age 18, you took up boxing, and turned out to be a natural at it. You began competing in amateur boxing matches, hoping for a chance to go pro. However, that proved more of a pipe dream. You managed to scrape together some of your boxing winnings and bought yourself a bar on the outskirts of town, though business was really struggling.
You were working the bar late one evening. Business had been rather slow the past few days, save for the odd vagrant popping in for a few rounds. You heaved a sigh. You wished for a way to be able to break away from your current lifestyle and start over.
You just thinking about closing the bar early and heading home when you heard the front door open. You looked up to see who had come in, and was surprised when you took a look at your potential patron, who resembled,
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