Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh; I spun on my axis. The dirty old bastard was running towards me. I took a step in reverse, then another, then my foot stuck to the other and I fell hard, thwap! “F---,” a cool sensation ran along the backside of my ear. Another glint shot me, this time from something in the bumm's hand, something he had pulled out of the crotch of those pants.
“Stop! Stop now!” Pop-Crack! I knew that sound well, the Argentinians often celebrated with pistols. Shank and I locked eyes, and for that instant we were both petrified with surprise, in his surprise he tripped forward. Pa, pa, pa, pa, pa, pop! Cr, cr, cr, cr, cr, crack! Shank's chest became a volcano, fragments flew in all directions, lava spurted out and stained the grass.