E
egghead
Guest
Original poster
Hefty, clomping footfalls dragged out like fresh roadkill across blacktop and melded with the jingle-jangle of spurs as the skinny guy emerged from behind an impenetrable wall of hired muscle. The brutes dwarfed him in comparison, even Glen towered over their leader by half a foot, but his underwhelming stature was made up for by the ravenous gleam in his eyes. They bulged from sunken sockets, blurry and bloodshot as if they were still glued to static on a screen.
"You." He leveled an accusing finger at the pretty boy who destroyed the family heirloom, handed down from at least two generations. "You ain't getting away this time."
Glen's hands shot into the sky. "W-wait," he pleaded, already on the verge of flipping on the waterworks. "Don't shoot! Please, we'll do anything!"
The outburst siphoned the tiniest hint of a smirk out of flesh that paralleled washed out beef jerky. "I know how we'll settle this." Batting his eyelashes ever so slightly prompted one of the thugs to stomp forward and seize the blonde's noisy friend. "See this person? Do you like him? Enough to...care about what happens to him? I'll give you a choice: this man's life. Or..." a sick chuckle bobbed his Adam's apple up and down. "ALL of yer belongings. Clothes, cash, pegleg, everything you got."
"No, please--" was all Glen could squeeze in before an oversized elbow jabbed his gut, effectively shutting him up.
"Well?" The boss didn't seem keen on sunbathing for much longer. "How about it? Yer stuff or his head."
"You." He leveled an accusing finger at the pretty boy who destroyed the family heirloom, handed down from at least two generations. "You ain't getting away this time."
Glen's hands shot into the sky. "W-wait," he pleaded, already on the verge of flipping on the waterworks. "Don't shoot! Please, we'll do anything!"
The outburst siphoned the tiniest hint of a smirk out of flesh that paralleled washed out beef jerky. "I know how we'll settle this." Batting his eyelashes ever so slightly prompted one of the thugs to stomp forward and seize the blonde's noisy friend. "See this person? Do you like him? Enough to...care about what happens to him? I'll give you a choice: this man's life. Or..." a sick chuckle bobbed his Adam's apple up and down. "ALL of yer belongings. Clothes, cash, pegleg, everything you got."
"No, please--" was all Glen could squeeze in before an oversized elbow jabbed his gut, effectively shutting him up.
"Well?" The boss didn't seem keen on sunbathing for much longer. "How about it? Yer stuff or his head."
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