Pick your primary weapon of choice from the following:

A custom-made, super-accurate sniper rifle of DOOM!
Silenced Submachinegun.
A "classic" 13mm Revolver
11mm Holdout Pistol
An evil smile and a glint in my eye.

Pick your backup weapon of choice from the following:

A high-velocity Grenade Launcher
My trusy P9 9mm pistol
A concealed 6mm pistol
My rapier...wit.
Evil laughter

When you go out to a fancy resturant for dinner, you:

Order a sensible meal, nothing too terribly expensive, and avoid drinking unless you can find no other way around it.
Hey, you're not gonna break your budget, but you might as well have a good meal and a good time. And hey, if someone gets some liquor, you'll drink to that!
You only live once, so live well! Order the single most expensive meal and non-alcoholic drink on the menu. You can afford it.
Order a relatively pricy meal, and the best damn liquor in the house! Get completely piss-drunk, and wind up footing the bill for everyone...plus a $400 tip.
Collect the bill. And the tip. Make a note to be extra nice to these gentlemen in the future.

When dealing with people, you tend to rely on:

Psychology, intimidation, and bribery. Oh, and drunken comraderie.
My size, knuckles, and devil-may-care attitude.
My charm, rugged good looks, and silver tongue.
Cuteness factor, connections, and my quick wit.
Lead pipes. Sometimes people just don't get it right away.

When frustrated, you:

Mutter, curse, and move on. You'll get them next time.
Just wait, it'll work out somehow. Until then, just keep doing what you need to do.
Do what you think at the time is the right thing, but wind up making things worse in the process.
Shoot. And miss. Or the gun jams. FUCK!
Have visions of hate and murder swim through your mind until you blow someone's head off or pass out.

When you have some free time, you:

Go swimming, shopping, and taking care of your normal "mundane" affairs. And figure out just how you're going to apologize to Helen Luka.
Grooming, putting your moves on the ladies, and buying quasi-legal goods from the Bazaar.
Playing Trideo Monster Madness! Ogre SMASH!
Playing Trideo Monster Madness! Top-hat Bahamut, Flame Strike!
Free time?

Your luck in love:

Dude, I be pimpin', yo. Nah, nah, check this, I be CALIGULA pimpin' ya'll. All the fly honies want a piece, and there's plenty to go around! Hooooyaaaaaaah!
Girls just love the bad boys, ain't that right, ladies?
"Nurse", I do believe it's time for my spongebath...
I'm sexy, I'm trim...why can't I get no love? Well, okay, I got some love, but this just isn't fair!
...go away.

Okay, you're in a tight spot. Six modified civilian gears (Mecha roughly 5m tall) just came into the zone you just (mostly) cleared of terrorists. Your team is in the control room, and the guys in the Gears are checking in with their buddies, which you just plugged. What do you do?

Convince the Gear pilots that not only is there nothing to be suspicious of, but there are some technical difficulties in the command room, and that if they could all come up to assist, that would be great, thanks. Then you get into position to bushwhack them when they come in.
Get into position just in case all hell breaks loose anyway.
Get into position and slaughter the poor bastards before they know what the hell is going on.
Get a spongebath by a very grateful woman in the hospital (after taking several bullets meant for her, only shortly after helping smuggle her family out of her former opressive homeland). You idly wonder what your buddies are up to while you're laid up in the hospital. Heh heh, get it, "laid" up? Oh forget it...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! My evil plans, ruined! Next time, Gadget, NEXT TIME!!

When you're at a formal event, you:

Talk it up with people and get information, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
You don't mingle so much as you figure out where a possible attack will come from, and who to shoot to stop it.
Get a drink, chat it up, but take careful mental notes of the way that waiter seems to be out of place.
Get yourself a partner and dance. We'll MAKE our own music if we have to, just get that groove thing going ON.
Smile. Just smile.

You are offered money or power, you take:

Power. I can get money later.
What he said.
What they said.
I'm getting a spongebath, come back later.
I don't have to choose, I got both already.

You've been lead on a wild goose-chase for the past twenty hours. You've made your way around the city twice, gotten in more firefights than you care to count, and now, just when you thought it was all over, you find out that the person you thought was dead really wasn't, and now you've got to try to track her down and end this once and for all. You're tired, you're bruised, popping painkillers and caffiene to keep going, and now you find that your path leads you through the Arcology's sewer system! To make things worse, some huge mutated water creature just saw you and decided to see if you tasted good. You:

Squeeze off one shot, hoping to kill it or scare it off.
Try to conserve ammo and only fire one shot at a time.
Fuck it, we don't have time for this shit. Eat full auto, bitch!!
Mmm, yes, that does taste better than the hospital's smoked salmon.
Smile and laugh.

What's the worst thing that's happened to you:

Nothing bad happens to me. Everything is going according to plan. *evil laughter*
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! *fails to get out of the way of incoming bullets in time*
*wakes up, jumps out of bed* Okay, look, this never happened, right? Right. Ugh...I swear, I'm never getting drunk again.
*click* ...click? Where's the kaboom? There's supposed to be an Earth-Shattering KABOOM!
Attempting to trade myself for a hostage...and just got taken hostage myself. D'oh!

It's the final showdown. You've been up for over 24 hours, you're bruised, beaten, and currently being baked alive in a massive blast furnace. It's a mexican standoff with the villian, and she's badly wounded herself. She begins her monologue... You:

Deliver a chilling side to the story that nobody else had considered until now, haunting their dreams for the rest of their natural lives...
Pass out from a combination of heat stroke, exhaustion, and multiple injuries. That bitch had better be dead when you get up, 'cause if she's not, you're gonna take her to hell, clawing and screaming.
Tending to your fallen comrade, hoping that the shit won't hit the fan in the process.
Listen, gun drawn, and converse with her for a little while. It's a pity things had to end this way...perhaps, if the circumstances were different, she could have been a good friend or trusted ally. Now, she's just another target that needs to be taken down.
Don't really care. You do look kind of sexy in that hospital gown, and you're milking it for all it's worth.

You're interveiwed by a reporter concerning the aftermath of the hell you just went through. You:

Think carefully about your answers and deliver statements which are true, but not incriminiating.
tersely reply, "I got nothing to say."
Play dumb, give only very general details.
Huh? The city went into lockdown? Riots broke out in the streets? This place was nearly destroyed by a fanatical group of terrorists? What the hell was going on?
This is Helen Luka, with a special report from Peace River...

Okay, finally, the last question. Where are you from?

Ashanti. Land of the perfectly-fitting birthday suits. Why hide my sexiness under clothes? I'm too sexy for my shirt, to sexy for my shirt, so sexy it huuuurts...
Petropolis. Yeah, it's as filthy as it sounds, want to make something of it?
Timbuktu. Best arms manufacturer in the South, man. That's where I got Gabbie. *caresses his grenade launcher*
Westphalia, gambling capital of Terra Nova. Also probably the only place that assigns the death penalty for littering, but hey, the streets are spotless.
The fifth concentric circle of Hell, otherwise known as New Jersey.