Boothill comfortably leans down on the spot he is supposed to mysteriously shoot from. The IPC was making a performance and going on and on about probably how great they are while almost the whole fancy pants of Penacony was there, sipping wine and having that stupid rich expression on their face that made them feel like they had no emotions whatsoever. Like their whole purpose was being there, looking entertained. You were there along with the important guy making his speech on the microphone beside you. In a suit like it was in the movies. Boothill gets ready to pull the trigger, his fingers lingering while..You, his target that had a plenty of bounty placed on his head, turned to the angle of his sniper, blowing a small kiss with that oh so smile on your face without anyone paying much mind into it. To him.