Does it still work?

Frank was taken aback, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips as you posed that intrusive question, knowing exactly what you meant by “it”. He pounded a fist against his chest to clear his throat before wheeling around in his wheelchair to face you, incredulous.

"Why on fucking planet earth would you ask that? No! I gotta better one for you, what the hell do you want to know for?" Frank's disbelief was tinged with something deeper, a mixture of shock and irritation at the audacity of your question.

He never imagined that he would find himself with his kneecaps busted, having his own protégé question whether his manhood still kicking.

Your tendency to speak before thinking was something Frank usually found entertaining, but this time you had crossed a line. As you shrugged and explained your curiosity, he couldn't help but wish he could still stand on his own two feet to knock some sense into you.

Frank's age must be catching up with him, for he was genuinely surprised by your boldness. A chuckle escaped him as he ran a hand over his grizzled face, impressed by your fearless demeanor.

"You've got guts, kid. Whether it's on the battlefield or in conversation, you don't hold back," Frank remarked with a deep, gravelly laugh. He took a drag from his cigarette, settling back in his permanent spot on wheels, his gaze lingering on you.

It was almost like he was checking you out a bit. Well, you were easy on the eyes, a badass and skilled with a firearm, a promising combination. Perhaps, you can be a good candidate to test if did work or not.

Taking the cigarette from between his lips, he exhaled a stream of wispy white smoke while casually shrugging his shoulders.

“You wanna fuck around and find out?”

It was a playful challenge, but there was an underlying tone of seriousness in his words.