The doors burst open. A man walks in with a stare that made all the tough guys quiet. His tilted hat gave off a dark black shadow over his eyes. The squint of his eyes were as focused as a lion haunting his prey. On the head, was a hat Sharper than the point on a spear. He and opened his mouth spat out the left over tobacco left on this tongue. With his eyebrow as thick as caterpillars he raised one and stared at my face. He walks over, his boots pushing against the wooden floor making a squeak sound which got louder as he got closer. He grabs his gun with a grip like it was a hand of his long last love. He pushes the cold barrel of the gun agianst my bruised ferckled cheek. He grins and shows off his yellow mastard teeth. Bang.
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