[The man that finally walks out into the open, warily, has a face only a mother or a methed out biker chick could love. He's met the pavement face first going too fast, and with the way one of his eyes is scarred up you can bet he can't see too good out of it.]
[He tosses a pistol across the ground, semi-automatic, his own sawed off shotgun propped on his shoulder.]
Four eyes are better than two with those assholes around.
no subject
[He tosses a pistol across the ground, semi-automatic, his own sawed off shotgun propped on his shoulder.]
Four eyes are better than two with those assholes around.