“You’re DANCING the WRONG dance with the WRONG partner Herbert, give me what I ask for or the end will be more than a bow to your partner!” Sinclair growls, spit spraying from his mouth as he slams a tightly clenched fist down onto the table that sits between them.
Herbert smiles wryly as he drags deeply on his cigarette, then blows several perfectly formed smoke rings into the air above them quickly followed by an arrow like streak of smoke blown from his nose that pierces the center of the rings.
“You’re just jelly because your old lady liked my nine inches more than she loves your four.”
Sinclair launches to his feet, tossing the table to the side as he does and ending the carefully planned maneuver with the barrel of his revolver pressed against the centre of Herbert’s skull.
“I’ve thought about this moment for so long I’m hard with anticipation, so just give me something. Give me one more smart arsed comment and see the damage THESE four inches will do to YOUR brain!”
“Probably the same thing my nine inches did to your wife hal….” he doesn’t get to finish his words as Sinclair fires the revolver, removing half of Herbert’s skull. For several moments he sits there motionless as a sea of red cascades from the shattered remains of what was once his head, before toppling backwards to the floor.