Hank held up two ties in front of Peggy, a red tie with a stylized S, and a plain blue one.

"But Peg," he protested. "Strickland propane isn't a gimmicky place. Blue is nice and simple."
"But you need to look stylish," Peggy replied, wagging her finger as if to keep Hank focused on her. "And with all the extra business you've been getting, you need to flaunt it, ho-yeah!"

Strickland was starting to feel the results of Thatherton's deaths. After Hank had killed one of their more obnoxious employees, Thatherton Fuels was subject to hundreds of rumors: the placed was cursed; anyone who entered one of their chains would die; anyone who bought from there would die in seven days; their products were dangerous and contaminated with some sort of exotic bacteria. Of course, a few of these were started by Buck Strickland himself. Not even a health inspector's examination would help the business, not after Hank had killed the first one.

It had been three weeks since Peggy returned the Death Note to Hank. Sure, he was angry with her at first. But she was his wife, dang it. They had to work through their issues, or else they'd be spending the rest of their lives quietly hating each other.

"Fine!" Peggy scoffed. "Don't listen to your wife. Choose the blue one, if you think you know more about people than I do, the future queen of a world without jackasses."

Peggy suggested they would only use the notebook when they both agreed to it, which Hank admitted was a small sacrifice. Still, he didn't want to get his wife involved in this mess. She was a smart woman, but she could have been a liability, too.

Hank sighed, then looked at his ties again. He was going with blue.