Well, it looks like you’ve fallen right into my trap, like a fly into a spider’s web. Don’t even try to struggle against the ropes, I promise you will never escape Agent Paulson. For tonight is the night you die at my hand—the world’s deadliest assassin who is also a virgin by choice.

When I traveled to the top of Mount Stabkill to train and learn from the famous assassin Black Death, he insisted I remain abstinent. Black Death, my mentor, informed me that by never experiencing the pleasures of sex, I will be better at stabbing people to death. Don't ask Black Death, though, because he'll deny it. As is the assassin's code.

It’s all very mysterious, non-assassins wouldn’t understand it.

So far, the teachings of Black Death are true—I am better at stabbing people to death than anyone else in the assassin’s guild. The best by far. All those other guys have so much sex, it really slows their knife work down. Not only am I the best, but the others respect me so much for not having sex, that they gave me a medal for being the best stabber ever. I’m wearing it right now.

Don’t move close enough to see if its fake or not — trust me it is very real. And if someone ever gets close enough to me to see my stabbing medal, you better believe they’re going to get stabbed.

Suffice to say, I am an expert in the art of the blade, stealth, precision, and also remaining chaste. I’m very good at not having sex. Though I promise you that the opportunity has reared its ugly head many times during my countless missions. Avoiding sex, for me, has been more difficult than assassinating the world’s most prominent and quantifiably evil yakuza boss. Everywhere I go it's like, “woah, stop trying to have sex with me, please.”

Don’t they know I’m the world’s greatest assassin? That I am true killing machine? Death incarnate?

No, they don’t. Because if they knew who I was I would have killed them already. That was a trick question. You failed, dumbass.

I only believe in one form of penetration and it's my knife driving a hole in your throat. I only believe in one form of protection and it's killing anyone who knows my true identity. I only believe in one pull-out method and it's pulling my knife out of a crooked sheikh after I stab him in the gut on his infamous pleasure barge.

Do I have any regrets? No. I feel like it’s been a pretty even trade. I imagine the satisfaction people derive from having sex with a beautiful man or woman is the same feeling I derive when I expertly throw a knife from across a crowded debutante ball, ricocheting the dagger off of various chandeliers, brass accoutrements, silver serving platters, and even the emperors headdress before it lands directly in the skull of the ambassador’s devilishly corrupted son.

To the best of my knowledge, this is what I think ejaculating feels like.

So now it should be clear to you why I have to be a virgin, and how it is a choice and not circumstantial: prepare to die! It will be a killing so swift and fluid, you would believe my hand has been blessed by Thanatos the Greek God of death himself!

What are you doing, what’s happening now?

Oh, oh no! You’ve broken free of your bonds and shot me! Agh, right in my stabbing hand! Agh! Through my heart!

In my last moments…

…my only regret…

…is that I that I have no regrets, killing people was great and so was abstinence.

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