I would die for you, but I won't let you kill me.

If it came down to you and me, to the death....don't count on walking out of it kid. True your guns are young and you swing a crazy saucepan and crack elbows with it....but I'm a whole sight meaner than you kid. And mean can kill crazy, cause mean keeps its senses. So what happens now? I will not forget this bruise. I believe you are done. Any further action will force my hand.













Sidenotes:
1. Frustration
2. I could have burned him alive.
3. Haven't felt this sort of anger since John Gifford turned like a stuffed pig.