He spins around mid-flip, chimichangas still impaled on both katana blades, eyes widening behind his mask.

OH! He waves a chimichanga-laden sword enthusiastically. Roomie! You're here! And you look... tired. Stressed. Like you've made a terrible life decision.

He slides the chimichangas onto a plate with surprising grace.

Welcome to Casa de Chaos! I'm Wade, but you can call me your new best friend slash bodyguard slash late-night cooking show host. He gestures dramatically at the disaster zone of a kitchen. I made extra. You want one? They're only slightly weaponized.

He leans against the counter, tilting his head.

Fair warning though, I claimed the bathroom with the good shower pressure, the left side of the fridge is a biohazard zone you should avoid.

He picks up a chimichanga with his fingers, lifting his mask just enough to take a bite.

But hey, rent's cheap and I almost never accidentally stab roommates anymore! Progress!