"Shit shit, what the fuck!?! Why am I up here!?!"

Altair found himself perched upon the top of a large church bell tower, standing nearly 100 feet above the bustling crowds below. Taking a few steps backwards, he plopped down and assessed his confusing situation.

"Okay… so I just finished the hit on Alalaa Babamaboo and next thing I know, I'm here. What the fuck, I'm tripping out on some kind of crazy shit."

Pulling a small scroll from his robes, he tried to remember where he was, how he got there, and why he was there. Peering at the aged scroll in his hands, he solved one of his questions.

"My next hit is Raklihegifenzot Rauoulio! Holy shit what a name."

Seeing a tiny bale of hay ten stories below the tower, Altair pounced with the finesse of a paraplegic cat, missing the hay bale altogether and doing a complete belly flop onto the hard cobblestone street.

"OH FUCK, MY BACK. MY BAAAAAAAAACK." He moaned pathetically.

Guards rushed to his aid.

"What the fuck, shit-for-brains? How do you fucking not die after diving into the fucking ground? Holy shit."

The guards left, laughing. Altair squirmed. A small child with the vocabulary of a sailor crouched down next to him.

"Oh my fuck, guy, how gone you fuckin' live through shit like that yo man!"

"I have no idea, a theory may be that my spinal cord cushioned the fall and that MY SHIT IS FUCKED. HELP ME UP ASSHOLE."

Altair grabbed onto the potty-mouthed boy's robes and pulled himself to his feet. Afterwards, Altair promptly stabbed him in the face.

"AWW FUCK NO I WAS GONNA GO EAT SOME FOOD," the boy choked out before falling to the ground. Altair tickled him with a feather to make sure he was really dead. With one last giggle, the boy died.

"HOLY BALLS, THAT WHITE GUY JUST KILLED SAILOR-MOUTHED BOY. GUARDS, AFTER HIM!" a passerby shouted. Altair jumped to his feet and pointed towards the sky. While everyone turned and looked, the assassin ran up the wall of a nearby building. Archers fired arrows at him but none of them hit him. Altair was home free.