Ruben was on the verge of daring to take a sip of that Texan poison before he heard a voice say, 'Don't shoot!' in a reserved sort of way - loud, but quiet at the same time. It sounds raspy. Ruben raises a finger to his lips and gestures for Mark to come over. Mark nods and crawls over, still tightly clutching his gun, always holding his gun, never letting go of his gun...
'Let's tread lightly now.' He says, in a low whisper. 'Never know what maniacs prowl the streets nowadays.' Mark nodded and shouldered his weapon, allowing Ruben to handle the situation. Ruben held his weapon in front of him, all-too ready to fire and blast his bullets if a blood-stained son of a bitch decided to rear its ugly head at any precise moment.
Ruben quietly leaped out onto the street, holding his rifle, the safety catch off. 'Come out!' He softly yelled, mimicking the hidden man.
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Wire, briar, limber-lock
Three geese in a flock
One flew east, one flew west
And one flew over the cuckoo's nest.
Brawl Code: 0731 - 4930 - 1278
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