The Tables Have Turned

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Well, it would appear that The Tables Have Turned...

     "Everyone put down your guns and get on your knees, or so help me, I'll blow us all sky high!" 

     Most of the men did exactly as the lady said. However, a few still glanced at the Suit. 

     "You got some nerve doll!" He spat, his hands still raised high above his head. He began to get up slowly. 

     "You seem to be the one with the nerve, Carson. One more inch and the cops will haul you off in a mop bucket!" she glared, moving the lit cigarette closer to the TNT in her left hand. "Now, tell your boys to get on the floor!" 

     The Suit made a small gesture. Around us, the men dropped their guns and got to their knees. She looked at the workman kneeling closest to her. "You, slide that gun over here." 

     Keeping her eyes on the Suit, the girl carefully bent and picked up the revolver.

     "When this is over girl, there won't be enough of you to fill a shot glass! And, I won't stop there either!" he hissed. "When I'm done with you, I'll get that sister of yours also. Who do you think you are, you stupid b- " 

     "SHUT UP!" She cut him off, racing across the floor and putting the revolver directly into his still-open mouth. Now she was a ball of fury, the muscles of her arms and face rigid, like steel bands. However, her anger was an ally. The trembling girl who had been tied to a chair moments ago, now stood as hard as nails. She wasn't bluffing. One more word, a single letter, and she would feed him hot lead. I believed her. It was in her eyes. The sweat beading on the Suit's forehead told me that he seemed to believe her too. 

   Yes, the tables had definitely turned. 

      

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