‘They’re six guns,’ I proudly announced, ‘with chrome barrels and ivory handle grips, that’s where the roll of caps go, and the holsters are...real leather!’ ‘Big deal,’ Bobby scoffed, ‘I have the same thing at home, and you’ve seen them.’ ‘No you don’t,’ I challenged, ‘not like these, not where ya actually can load bullets into it one at a time, like John Wayne does.’ ‘But the cartridges would have to go into a revolving cylinder Dunk,’ Wayne argued, ‘and they don’t make them that real.’ ‘That’s. There were no tears. Instead, her eyes burned with anger. "That bastard's gonna pay. Fuckers burned down my house. My dad built that house and they fucking burned it down. And then they tried to kill us! Fuck 'em."She stormed out of the room, snatching up the bunny slipper decoy along the way. "Bastard's got no manners; he got blood all over my slipper!" She poked a finger through a bullet hole. This time, the dead body lying on the floor at the base of the stairs didn't bother her. Her rage. More

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