Ian Summers. I don't think he knew what hit him, honestly.
I decided to take things slow. Started with a mild tranquilizer to break the ice. Introduced him to my good buddy Mr. Fork. I even brought a nice little appetizer to his quivering lips (with the help of Mr. Fork, of course) and well. . . I don't think he was much of a fan of Yeux de Summers.
See, we hadn't even made it to the main course and the boy was moaning like a young beluga whale that's just found out his girl's been seeing the local porpoise for a daily blowhole scrubbing. This was obviously rather troublesome so I did what any sensible individual would do: broke his nose and positioned his body so that the resulting bleeding would drain into his throat. He was so busy trying to cough after that that he didn't have much time for his incessant moaning.
After he stopped making sounds altogether I tried my hand at a bit of arts and crafts. I painted a smile on his computer monitor in warm blood and carved this message into his back: "The Tall Faceless Guy Sends His Warmest Regards. <3"