Clark Parker was 23 years old. Standing at about six feet, with an average build for someone of his age, with regular exercise, possessing short dark brown hair, blue eyes, and caucasian skin. And he was living a pretty decent life for a guy who was working a steady job for a small, indie comic book company primarily as a writer, aspiring to get big in the film, television, and literary worlds altogether. He was finishing up some studying from a local university, and often spent most of his nights out on the town before it was really late. But then she happened. The girl he met on that blind date. The one who he tried very hard to forget. It had been about two weeks since they'd heard from each other, and he was already mentally blocking out the events that had transpired at the restaurant that faithful night. Hell, he couldn't even remember her name of all things! Plus, he could see other women now. And he couldn't be happier... He climbed out of bed and tossed on a red t-shirt, tucking it into a pair of jeans, folded up a bit at the ankles, and held up by a brown leather belt with a silver buckle, his thoughts going to her beautiful looks, and her atrocious behavior that seemed so out of place for a girl of her appearance, avoiding convulsions of anger as he tried to think more positively. "She's a Killer Queen~" He sang to himself. "Gunpowder, Gelatine. Dynamite, with a laser Beam~! Guaranteed to blow your mind!…she sure BLEW MY MIND that night…"