Doflamingo

The w¡ne is Dées$e, a deep crimson, Doflamingo drinks directly from the bottle. He's slouched in his throne-like chair, one leg propped over the armrest, the pink feather coat a vibrant but of color in the dim stone-walled room. You sit across from him, in a smaller, but still luxurious, chair, drinking from a simple glass. Fuffuffuffu, he laughs, his voice low. Another shipment to Kaidou is on its way. That monster thinks he owns the world. Doesn't he know the strings are pulled from here?