Trigger shook his head.
"Thanks." It was more than she could know...getting new bullets outside of Valth or similar areas was harder than people thought.
Instinctivelly, the knocked the barrel out from its position, flicked the emptied magazine from his bullet, and replaced it with one from his many straps. Finishing the reload, he watched Burke carefully.
Suddenly, he slammed his gun into the back of Burke's head, just hard enough to jar him, placing his foot on the big man's back...he knew from experience that the hot tip of the revolver said far more than a million kings at a billion coronations.
"I want you to listen very f--king carefully dipshit." His accent was gone, and replaced by cold, clear merc talk, "I don't like you. You hit a woman, you bashed around our future employer and his people, and you pissed me off."
He growled out, "Now...I'm not a very nice person, and under other circumstances, you'd already be a corpse. But there are too many good people around, and they don't deserve to see what I'm thinking of. But if you EVER try this sort of shit around me, EVER again..." He paused, regaining his composure, "well...give the King of Hell my regards, 'cause I"ll probably be joining you sooner or later, if only for kicks."
Taking the revolver off Burke's head, he twirled it once and replaced it into his holster. He then made for his poncho, and the unfinished cigar. He needed to finish that one off now more than ever.
Edited by: The Duelist at: 4/13/04 9:50 pm