My Name is Gaius Teutoberg. Don’t laugh, and nobody gets hurt. I know, reminds you of a Roman Bratwurst, and yeah, I’ve heard most of the jokes over the years. You might think up a new one though, and if it’s really funny, I’ll make sure I’m the last person that will ever hear it. Get what I’m saying? You’d call me a vampire, I prefer to be known by my line of work. I bag groceries at the American Commissary in Wiesbaden, Germany. Sounds special ops but it’s no more than loading groceries in customers’ cars. And I work for tips of the cash variety, not the “buy low, sell high” thing. My bagger friends call me Gare…none of them know about Gaius. So to the world I’m a twenty-year-old grocery store bag boy, not Gaius, Prince of the Teutoberg Forest Clans, though I could afford one of those remote castles if I wanted one. But the cool chicks don’t hang out ...