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Name: Mudd Smith
Assassin Name: Grave digger
Age: 28
Loyalty to the Boss: Not all that loyal.
Description: Mudd stands 6'3" and weighs 200lbs. He is missing more than a few of his teeth and covers his oily brown hair with his cap. He always has a heavy 5 o'clock shadow that seems to have patches of grey starting to come in. His typical non work garb is a white wife beater scattered with stains ranging from coffee, to catchup, to even bodily fluids complemented by his pair of bleached out blue jeans (complete with skoal ring). He wears old worn out Nikes with mismatching shoelaces and is seldom seen without his "Micky's Hard Liquor" hat on.
Job Uniform: Again his trademark hat and a dark green jumpsuit with his "Mudd" name tag across the right breast pocked and "Karl's fun-eral home" written in bright yellow across the back
Personality: Mudd is well... Insane is a bit of an understatement. He is a raging racist given his rough interactions in has past. He has zero tolerance to anyone or anything that pisses him of and has an incredibly violent temper. A voice inhabits his head, sometimes going by bob, or god, though it typically calls itself "Mr. Air Conditioner Pants". This voice leads him to commit horrid acts of violence and mutilation. Its not uncommon for him to imagine the voice is manifested in a fresh corpse and carry on conversations, occasionally turning into violent arguments. He has a hard time turning down any drug and is seldom seen sober, and NEVER seen without tobacco.
History: Mudd was raised in a broken home by his alcoholic father. At age 11 (after failing two grades in school) the social worker that would change his life made his first appearance. HE was a short fat man of asian decent who took him away from the bastard of a father he came to love. Under the social workers care he bounced around from foster home to foster home each worse than the last. He started the associate that damn asian with the hell of a life he was living now. He grew to hate all of those slanty eyed fucks, just because of the hell one put him in during his developing years. He was stationed at a especially hellish home throughout his 16th year of life (in 7th grade). Placed in the care of an overly zealous souther "fire and brimstone" preacher who would often "beat the demons" out of the young troubled child or lock him in the pitch black basement for days on end with no food and barely any water it was no surprise that Mr. Air Conditioner Pants made his appearance. Right after his 17th birthday he took the preacher's life in a frenzy fulled by the voice in his head. He burned the house and walked away without every looking back.

He wandered the streets for a few years before landing the min. wage job as a grave digger at age 23. Since getting the job he has found a less lethal outlet for his burst of anger in the form of mutilating dead bodies, especially those of asian origin.
Weapons: Preferred weapon is a large heavy spade.
Magic (Physical): Flesh rot: He can cause flesh to rapidly deteriorate while touching it. Though it works mostly on smaller body parts like parts of the face, hands, or feet.
Stench of the dead: He fils the room with a powerful odor so revolting that it is more than capable than inducing vomiting, the inability to move, and sometimes seizures of any who smell it (excluding himself)
Secrets: He has had "relations" with some of the corpses)
Family/Close Friends: His father, though his location is currently unknown.

The Assassin’s test:
This is a basic test that tells the Boss about you. The questions are also used for group operations.

A. If you see a box on the side of the road, what do you do to it?
Run over it.
B. If you figure out this box has a litter of baby bunnies in it, what do you do? (Please remember your reaction from above.)
Pick up one of the bloody corpses and "make it talk"
C. Your house is robbed. What do you do?
Find the fucking shit that did it and let him taste the earth
D. You just won a million dollars, reaction?
Make the man who owns the local liquor store a very happy guy.
E. You failed Senior English, again. Now what?
If by senior english you mean 7th grade english then I stare the teacher down and fill his gas tank with volatile chemical.
F. (For males) You just landed the part of Cinderella in a play. Reaction?
Fuck that fucking shit. Walk up to the bitch that cast me tell her she smells REAL purrdy and lick her ear. Walk out and never look back, she'll die someday. Then i'll get my payback...