“Can you imagine if I was sitting here with a gun..” his voice low and threatening, like a lion hunting its prey. His MP-443 Grach was pointed at the ground “forcing you to accept my apology.” his eyes met theirs.

“You’re scaring me…” they responded in a barely audible voice with a small quiver.

“Yeah…” he looked down at the gun before dragging it across his inner thigh as he was man spreading. The barrel pointed at them. “that’s kinda the point..”