Scene From: The Jets
Gun fire rings out like a bell.
One. Two. Three.
I squeeze the trigger three times, like I’m counting off members of a ménage à trois.
A hundred feet from us, the car slows to a stop. There’s something wrong with their driver, it would seem.
“Fuck it,” that voice in my ear again, “give ‘em the other three. Low and a little to the left this time.
Four. Five. Six. I was counting orgy members now.
The windshield began to buckle on the stopped car. There was some turmoil going on within the vehicle, of that much I could be sure, but it was hard to tell what was what for sure.
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