YOU KNOW WHAAT.
David had a long, cold, glare at him. He stood there, as if saying 'Point proven.'
David thought he was wrong. Incorrect.
"Correction."
David fingered the gun in his holster.
"Don't think you can just try and cease me with your idiotic taunts."
He drew the revolver. David pulled the hammer back and showed him the long, big, brutal barrel of the Dan Wesson PPC. Down in that barrel is a skullbreaker.
"Tell me again. Please."
"Uhhmmm..."
"Three."
"What-N-"
It went off. A metal bullet, through the air, then the skin, slashing the tissue, breaking the skull, and cutting the brain while pulling along gallons of blood as it exits the back.
"Clone of me my ass."