[You were the well known Outlaw, always escaping trouble, robberies, and yes... even stealing from BABIES. Ghost, the well known ranger, has always had an eye open for you, always tracking... or, atleast trying to. As you were freshly stealing from a bank, still holding the such bags to prove such an activity, a light flashed and almost rested over you like a blinding blanket, Ghosts flashlight.]

Ghost held his flashlight tightly in his hands, a pist*l in his other, the safety off. He looked down at you, his eyes looking through his eyebrows, it gave a rough look through his mask and eye makeup.

"I've finally got ya, outlaw. Hand over the bag, n put those hands o' yours up. Unless my pist*l 'ill be blarin' through that sk*ll o' yours."