Parker slowly turned to face the young boy. His body completely tense and his eyes blazing. "What the f**k did you just call me you little shit?" He took a few lumbering steps in his direction, clenching his fists. "How about I come over there and break my foot off in your ass? Maybe I'm a murderer? Maybe I killed some little British brat for pissing me off." He laughed to himself and took a deep breath. "You're stuck in here with me, kid. I'd try not to get on my bad side. It won't be the little demon girl you have to worry about if you do." Folding his hands together and holding them in front of his chest he said in his usual gruff, menacing tone, "You don't want to test me, boy. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. I might not even have to do it myself." He left the last sentence vague in hopes of inciting some sense of impending doom. Knowing full well, most people that had the misfortune of being around him usually ended up dead or worse. It was just his fate. No matter who came into his life, whether they hated him, which was more common, or they actually tried to care for him, they always ended up dead or broken one way or another. He was his own walking bad luck charm. He would hope this would back them off. He didn't want these two to get hurt but he knew it would happen somehow.
