Nicole lit a cigarette for the smoke to drift up through the open window. “Oh, bullshit, honey,” she said after a long pause. “Show me your pussy.” Dropping the binoculars, Nicole yelled, “I can see you ironing in your panties!” up at the window and a male voice burst into laughter. She climbed the incline to the curb, crawled into her car, and slammed the door shut. “I’m bored of the alleyways around here! I’m heading downtown!”
“You really don’t like to be taken seriously,” Marianne said quizically. “I hope you like beer glass and spikes digging into your knees. Or did you change out of that plus-sized college homecoming dress.”
“I’m leaving,” Nicole drawled in slow exasperation.
“One more thing shemale, don’t try to steal my boyfriend. You’re like a mother to him.”
“You know me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the male voice cut in. “Thirteen inches of tough love. You don’t treat me gentle.”
“Naughty by nature, nigger.”
Nicole pulled her hatchback under a flashing sombrero next to a green cactus with the words, “Lista’s: Last of the Tex Mex.” Arms swaying by elbow instead of shoulder, she strode into the restaurant, smiled at the Maitre d’, and walked past straight to the bar. She sat and held up a forefinger to the bartender and, as he looked her way, said. “Make it look like a martini and make it a double, Padre.” She lit a cigarette and began thumbing through the email on her phone. Nicole looked up from freshening her lipstick, a nice shade called I’m Fucking Your Son. A married couple with a friend sat to her right and a young couple all the way at the end on her left. The younger woman’s eyes were watching back. There was an empty seat to her left. Before her first martini was finished, Nicole and her were necking on adjacent seats at the bar while the young man was out smoking. “You’re always so weird about slipping me the tongue.”
“I just met you,” the young woman said with a frown. “You’re after my date, aren’t you?”
“Why be honest? It’s all lies in the end. He said two of his brothers died from SIDS. Have fun getting raped. I’m out of here.” She arched her eyebrow and ran her tongue over her upper lip. Nicole held out her hand, “I’ve got a thing for alleyways.”
“You cannot fucking not be screwing with me.” Outside in the alley, Nicole lit a cigarette and backed the young woman against the wall. She took the butt from her mouth and placed it between her friend’s lips and then dropped to her knees. “Most of my sexual fantasies aren’t this good,” the woman said.
“Let’s get a hose for your leather leggings. What the fuck is this?”
Drunk and driving, Nicole pulled up in front of the church across the street from her condo complex. “The biggest bitch of them all,” she breathed sadly, staring at the building up the long drive. Cradling a bottle of valentine in her arm, she walked up the sidewalk, past Darius and Marianne’s condo, the heels of her boots clopping on the ground. “I’ve got six hundred and, Christ, I’m thirsty.” Her ankle shot sideways as she was concentrating on keeping the mirth from her voice and with a scream louder than when she’d broken her arm, she fell.
“Are you alright?” Asked Marianne, tentatively. “It’s okay if you’re not, we can take care of you if you take instruction well, like long term.”
“No, but I will be in a day. Do you want to get drunk and badmouth people? We can do what you want afterward.”
“Darius is coming down, okay. We’ll get you inside.”
“Yeah, thanks. Just a ride back, though. To my condo.”
Three minutes and twelve seconds later, she and Darius trotted across the grass towards Nicole with three beers, gripped by the neck in one of Marianne’s fist and a loaded revolver in the other. “Okay. Now how long has it been since you’ve played Russian Roulette, Nikki?”
“Get the fuck away from me with that thing,” Nicole squealed, kicking her way up the sidewalk with her one good foot.
“Oh, we don’t play to the death. Just one chamber, love. Now watch me.” Marianne put the gun under her chin, made a ridiculously silly face and the hammer clanked. “One in five,” she said with a smile. “You got this.”
“I can’t do that,” Nicole stuttered. She turned her head rapidly from Darius’s face to Marianne’s. “I want to live.”
“You will,” said Darius, holding out the gun.
Nicole’s breathing slowed. His voice was so sure, so fluidly nonchalant. Not that it particularly mattered, she would live. Nicole took the pistol, smiled awkwardly, and swallowed the barrel. Making eye contact with Darius, she pulled the trigger and blinked when the gun didn’t fire. “Sorry about the lipstick,” she sighed, handing the gun back.
Darius took the barrel in his hand and pulled the revolver to his heart. Nicole hadn’t let go of the grip. “Kiss me,” he said. Nicole’s pull of the trigger left him kneeling right where had sat. “This is going to be the best thing you’ve ever tasted,” he said, popping the top off a squat Mexican beer.
“Oh my God.”
“Yeah, I know,” Marianne said excitedly, still high on adrenaline. “Just at the grocery store. I hadn’t seen it before so I picked up a case.”
“I thought I was fucking crazy.”
“I get that,” she answered with a sarcastic smile. “Now let’s get you home.”
“Why do you park on the curb?” Darius asked Nicole as she fumbled through her bag for her keys.
“She’s stalking us.” Marianne placed her hand on Niccole’s, which was at the lock. “We’ll see each other again soon.”
“I’d like that.”
“We were right about you,” Darius threw in.
Nicole nodded nervously, bid them goodnight, and shut the door behind herself, immediately irate that she’d left her bottle in the car.
“Boring spring. Boring spring. Boring spring. Boring, tedious, repetitive, rhyming spring season soon see you soon, Nikki.” Those words woke Nicole, lying on the sofa, passed out from the night before. She stared at the door for several seconds before the door knock dinged twice against its metal plate.
Marianne thumped a bouquet of mixed flowers on Nicole’s chest and walked past her to recline against the armrest of the sofa. “How’s tricks, butch? Make yourself at home. Why do you write?”
“Free association?”
Marianne clapped her hands. “Marvelously done.”
“Let’s see alliteration.”
“Make me motherly more than matronly and I’ll tell two teaspoons of talc intertwined in triadic hues how Houston heard southerly sorrow.”
“Soho.” Nicole forced a smile.
“Southampton?”
“God, stop it. This is way too intense.”
“Let’s see it.”
“See what?”
“Your useless girl clit, sister. I want a look. You fucking know how big that thing is?”
.
“Yes,” Nicole hissed, sliding her dress down. “And it’s not useless.” She cupped her breasts. “These are implants.”
Marianne smiled with sharp teeth. “Darius will be so pleased.”
“Darius?”
“Okay, here’s how it goes. He only sucks it. We’ll both promise him we won’t fuck during the day except, yes, in the shower. Let me hear you use the word ‘here.'”
“I hear you.”
“Okay, that’s what I thought. Darius will know we will never fuck here during the day.”
“Here?”
“Yes, but we’ll be at our place when we say it. Don’t hit the word, please. That will only upset him. Same volume, pitch, tone and intonation as the others.”
“Darius, we will never fuck here during the day.”
“Except in the shower.”
“Darius, we will only fuck in the shower here during the day.”
Marianne sighed and waved dismissively. “Darius we will never fuck here during the day except in the shower. This is why we practice.”
“Why?”
“It’ll remind him of women’s prison films, likely.”
“The shower.”
“Right you are. Pour me a drink and we’ll roleplay. I’ll be a girl and you’ll be a poodle and I’ll get you off while I brush your hair.”
“You’d fucking do that?” Nicole blinked. “For me, I mean? Can I tell you something? You are like so strikingly hot.”
“Of course I am, Nikki.” She batted her eyelashes. “I’m perfect.”
“A little to the left.”
“Oh, God, I could just fuck you silly.”
“I’d kiss you after you stuck your tongue in my ass.”
“I could so fucking make you squeal.”
“It’s not that you’re weird, though you are. It’s that you seem proud of being weird,” Nicole remarked, handing Marianne a water glass full of wine. “I took the liberty of presuming.”
“Can I ask a few questions if I don’t get too close to any bones, marrow, or blood?” Marianne asked.
“I warn you that you’ll get nothing but honesty.”
“Why did you go out to the bar last night?”
“It’s an outlet for my latent homosexuality.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t accept that as an actual answer.” Marianne rolled her eyes and swigged her wine. “This stuff reminds me of the Cabernet I had at my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary. Sweets, white wine isn’t a bit tart. Swill is a bit tart.”
“But it’s the truth if you see things my way.”
“This is nonsense. You’re just offering clever non-responsive responses.”
“You know I lie to you, don’t you?”
“Nikki, even that doesn’t make sense.”
“Are you suggesting I’m a riddle so strong that you can’t break me?”
“Can I smoke?” Marianne nodded. “That’s a song lyric.”
“But whose?”
“There. See? That made sense.”
“About as much sense as a retarded eight-year-old saying, ‘Look what I made.'”
Marianne’s body went rigid. “Cunt.”
“Do you use drugs?”
Marianne nodded with a blank expression. “I’m a sewer.”
“How do you like them?”
“Hard like my cock. I assume you have the necessary apparatus?”
Tears gleamed in Marianne’s eyes after they had sated themselves and lay with even their heads under the sheet. “You make me so happy,” she whispered.
“I’m afraid I can only supply my stock reply.”
“What would that be?”
“Get out of my head.” Nicole rolled over and began to masturbate.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m so witty that I don’t understand half of what I say.”
“You’re belittling and repulsive.”
“Shhh. Gotta focus. Need to do it before you get up and leave.”
She leaned over and latched onto one of Nicole’s breasts, scissoring a leg in the process that she was screwing like a dog a few minutes later.
“What would life be without disaffected ennui?”
“Mommy?”
“I regret that I ever saw you, that I ever looked at your face, and that you were smiling back as though it meant nothing at all. You are perfect and I hate you for not being mine.”
“You do this just to piss me off. I swear.”
“No one does things just to piss people off. That’s just something people say sometimes.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, really.”
“But it explains so much.”
“Descriptive models tend to.” Nicole rolled over. “Will you take me inside you but not move. I’ll cum if I need to.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can suck it if I don’t cum.”
Marianne smiled manic glee. “You want me to?”
“Sorority girl sarcasm”
“Sometimes I play with myself and don’t mean it.”
“But you play with one less than you had before.”
“Darius and I were right about you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Your mother secretly wanted to buy you a blue fairy lingerie costume. That’s why I ordered you one.”
“Thanks. I have a catholic school girl costume.”
“Aren’t you a bit fat for that?”
“My ass makes up for it.”
“Your hair makes up for it. Your ass makes up for your dick, but Darius and I aren’t like that.”
Nicole shrugged. “We all bring something to the table.”
“I’m incapable of judging myself.”
“There but for the grace of God.”
“That didn’t come out right. When I’m happy, I’m in love with everyone. When I’m not, all I see are deficits. In me, but I blame other people for them.”
“I see things from all sides and weight each perspective equally and then choose the one I like.”
“Does that work?”
“You know better than me.”
Darius opened his front door and Marianne popped up to stand between him and Nicole. “I’ll get out Robin Hood. Nicole?”
Nicole’s face was at once aghast and her brows furrowed in disappointment. “You’re into cosplay?”
“And poker. It’s great fun.”
“Do you play for sexual favors?”
Darius and Marianne exchanged looks. “Let it happen,” Marianne said softly.
“The river is a motherfucking spade,” Nikki cried nine hours later, taking her cigarette from her mouth to down her warm whiskey.
“I should shave,” Darius said sullenly.
“You the man,” Nicole said. “Marianne and I won’t fuck except in the shower here.”
“No, honey, nowhere here except in the shower.” She shot Nicole a fierce look.
“Can I get my dick sucked first?”
“You want me too?!” Marianne asked with manic enthusiasm.
“Let it happen,” Nicole murmured to Marianne as she passed.
“You’re sucking his dick, you idiot cunt. It’s not like he’s your boss.”
“Jelly.”
Marianne rolled her eyes.. “Watch out for the thruput.”
“Does it hide under a hat in the closet?” she asked with a Cockney accent.
“You really aren’t bright, are you? Dove, you ever see Midnight Cowboy? After your drinking?” Marianne stood and began gathering cards.
Nicole pulled out her phone. “What’s disambiguation?”
“Slut.”
“Give me ten, no twelve minutes and just open the door softly.”
“I will not do this. I warned you about this.”
“About alleviating the boredom of getting fucked by the same man?”
“You fucking whore. He’s mine.”
“And you don’t care what I might promise, I suppose. Fuck, you lazy-eyed psycho, wazzup?”
“I’m going to suck that dick.”
“Don’t forget to make him breakfast. Can I sleep in the second bedroom?”
“I hate you.” Marianne stood perfectly erect, holding the cards. “I hate you,” she sniffled.
“I can’t sleep in this thing. It has wings.”
Marianne smiled lasciviously at Nicole. “Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit getting ganked on llama.”
“So you were the one playing with yourself under the table.”
“It was pussy, bitch.”
“Just sayin.”
“What? What the fuck? I’m going to go suck my boyfriend’s dick and make him breakfast. I hope you die. Later. When we’ve burned through you and you feel used. Then you die.”
“Keep talking.” Nicole pointed to her eyes. She laughed when Marianne’s gaze rose. “I am so tit-meloned, aren’t I?”
“Par for the course. A misogynistic shemale. Good night.”
“I prefer tranny faggot. Just sayin,” Nicole called after her, unhooking her blue, sequined corset.
“Prick.”
“Should I cum, Mommy?”
Marianne dropped her head to her palms. “Stop. I’m going to turn into Mr. Hyde. Stop and softly open the door in twelve minutes.”
Nicole giggled “I love you too, Princess.”
“I knew that,” she shot over her shoulder with a smile Nicole could see in the near-dark.
“Now I’ve got to get myself hard,” Nicole said aloud.
“Cunt,” Marianne muttered, shaking her head, from down the hall.
Nicole hooked her corset back up and put on her wings and stepped into the floor length black tulle skirt Marianne had bought for her. She leaned against the wall outside the master bedroom for twelve minutes and swung it open to the sight of Darius screwing Marianne from behind on the bed. “Not fucking funny!” she cried out as Nicole dropped her skirt. Darius and Nicole smiled at each other. “I’m a god damned fucking slut,” Marianne moaned in tensed despair as Nicole tapped her on the head with her wand.
“I can get hard enough for asshole,” Nicole said, situating herself.
Marianne screamed around the huge dick in her mouth.
“Here,” Darius said. “Smoke some crack with us.” He held out a stem and a lighter.
“Why do you smoke crack?”
“Because it’s fun. Because it makes us feel good. People empty their bank accounts to feel the way that stuff makes you feel.”
“This is an odd conversation to have,” Nikki said, fitting the stem to her lips.
“Look, we kind of know each other. We obviously like each other. Just at least grant me that I’m not asking you to smoke something that will make you feel bad. So I can point my finger or something. It’s not even that I want you to smoke it and get high. It’s that I want to do it with you. I want you to feel like I feel right now. I’ll prove it. I’ll smoke that rock and, if you smoke one, I’ll smoke another. Honest.”
“Won’t I get my proof when I hit it?”
“Shhh. Gotta focus. Phone said there’s an unscheduled opening of the Belmont Bridge this morning.”
“Life is so tedious,” Nicole said with a smile, lighting the stem.
“She’s kinda quiet and limp,” Darius commented a half hour later.
“Rethinking her life. I know women. Not in a million years does she want us to stop.”
Darius had to pull out and go to the bathroom to jerk of at a quarter to seven and Marianne pulled away from Nicole.
“The best time I’ve had in a year, maybe two. You are an absolutely amazing cocksucker.”
Marianne slapped Nicole, hard. “I’m your slut when Darius is around. Only.”
“Aren’t we his two mommies?”
“Maybe when I haven’t been drinking for eight hours. Shower? Give Darius something to watch?”
“We can’t do that in the shower.”
“I know why I hate you. I know why. Nikki, I finally understand why I hate you.”
“I’m lovely to have here but you’ll cry when I go? Do you have a crop top you could wear in there? He’d think it’s hot. I know I would.”
Marianne put a hand on Nicole’s shoulder and jabbed the forefinger of her other hand at her, grunting, “Now, now, now, now, now.” Marianne spun to the dresser and pulled out her gun. She pointed it at Nicole, who was bent over, preoccupied with cleaning her fingernails with her teeth. The hammer clanked down harmlessly. “God, I love you.”
Things heated up in the shower with Darius watching until hot water was pounding down on Nicole’s breasts with Marianne bent before her, hands planted on the wall. “She’s not what I’d call a giving lover, but she won’t stick a pinky finger into your ear canal either,” Darius commented, masturbating. Nicole didn’t answer. Marianne’s head shook while she opened and closed her mouth, speaking noiselessly.
The sun was up when an ice cube dropped into the glass on the nightstand next to Marianne’s head. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I want two hours with you before Darius gets home.” Scotch ran and ran onto the ice from a metal spout.
“God damn!” Marianne cried, downing her quintuple single malt. “Nice cock”
“Who’s a hot little fuck? Who’s a hot little fuck? Are you a hot little fuck?”
“Yes. Shut up.”
“Yes you are, you’re such a hot little fuck.”
“I’m a hot little fuck.” Marianne rolled onto her side. “Look, I’m being me. This cannot be you.”
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Nicole lay in bed, spooning Marianne.
“No,” she whined, plaintively.
“Have some?”
“I’m going to throw up. Nikki, satirizing poor relationship behavior needs to be done in fucking modulation.”
“Are you saying I’m not enough for you?”
“I can’t talk to you right now. I’m too afraid of what I might say.”
“I’ll just listen.”
“Lick my pussy. No, yes. Yes. Lick my god damned pussy. You know how you said once that you didn’t use Amyls because you were worried you’d become unable to function without them. Well, I’ve used Amyls and lick my pussy. Lick my fucking pussy.” Marianne shook her head, chin up, tears in her eyes. She climbed on the bed and stood on her knees. “Stick. Tongue. In. Hole,” she said, pointing to her vagina. Marianne grabbed her arm and dragged her halfway across the bed. “Eat my pussy, cuntslut,” she shouted angrily.
Nicole purred and pushed Marianne onto her back.
“You’ve fucking ruined my life,” she sighed, a wide smile on her face.
Darius arrived home to Marianne in her Little Red Riding Hood costume and Nicole in an obscenely short skirt suit with a blouse that made a bow tie of itself, stockings with rhinestones, and five inch stiletto heels. Both were in the kitchen, over a simmering pot of tomato sauce, a boiling pot of lasagna noodles, a salad, and a loaf of Italian bread that Nicole was crafting a into garlic bread. “You two look great.”
“How many of these things did you buy for me?” asked Nicole, gesturing at her outfit.
“Our secret.”
“We get to pick what you wear so we can color coordinate. Be Robin, Baby.”
“Mom. Embarrassing.”
“Come on. I want my boy wonder. Did you see anyone from Uncle Ben’s family outside?”
“I’ve never met any of your relatives. Have you been having too much fun with the cocaine?”
“No, we were too busy have ultra hot strapon sex in the prison shower.”
“We drank and called for a pull. It’s on the kitchen table.”
“A little pick-me-up before dinner.”
“Babe, you are a dork. Like really.”
“Will everyone here with a dick vote on whether that was uncalled for?” Nicole asked.
Marianne burst into tears. “You fuckers. It’s just love. I just want love,” Marianne wailed, doubling over.
Darius rushed to her side. “We both love you. Can’t you tell?”
“That’s better.” she sniffled. “I want, um, a little blow then I’ll go get nice and hot.”
“Will there will be turning into a quivering, wet, idiot when presented with a male sex organ in front of your face, drooling, lip-smacking, kissing, fondling, stroking, touching, sucking, whining, begging with mouth feet face and hands all over the cock.”
“Have you been reading my emails?” Darius grinned.
“My disgust has a first name. It’s O-S-C-A-R,” Marianne sang, moving away from the kitchen table towards the staircase.
Darius walked behind Nicole in the kitchen. “Listen, Nicole,” he slid his hand between her legs from the front, lifting her skirt in the process and wrapping his thumb and forefinger about the head of her useless girl clit and twisting it back and forth inside her panties. “It’s really important to me that you do Marianne right.”
“Yes?” Nicole squeaked.
“I don’t want her done wrong.”
“No, of course not.”
“And then I want to sample the hot little piece of ass your mommy raised.”
Nicole’s clit throbbed and Darius pinched it back. The buzzer for the noodles rang.
“Do your thing, fuck my girl, and then I’m going to ruin your asshole.”
Nicole turned back over her shoulder with a pleased look. “I can take your cock,” she said without a trace of humor or mockery.
Darius leaned close to her ear and whispered in a husky voice, “You’ll need real-deal vasoline, faggot.”
“I’m a shemale, you perverted homophobe. And I’m going to remember that when I’m fucking your face and you’re tapping three fingers on my thigh.”
“As long as they can resesitate me afterward.”
“You and me both, sweetheart. Take me after dinner. I want to taste everything there is to taste now.” Nicole sunk to her knees while Darius unbuttoned his pants. “What the hell is this?”
“I mutilate it to get the venom out.”
“There’s a fishhook in your urethra.”
“That’s not that. You’ll find out after dinner.”
“I’m not doing this.”
“Fine. Then I don’t want to watch.”
“Fine. Then I won’t cum.”
“Excuse me.”
“For that, neither of us will. It’s called taking the edge off Darius. Try respecting women and they might tell you more about themselves.”
“How can you respect something with motives that read like scat and no sense of accountability?”
“Doublethink. I’ll be down in a bit.”
Marianne cleared the table after dinner. “I swear, you two,” she said. Nicole was lying flat on her back on the dining room table, babbling the lyrics to “No Sugar Tonight” in a high-pitched double time squeal while Darius stood at the foot of the table with her legs over his shoulders.
Darius inclined his head towards a salad bowl. “Eat that cherry tomato, bitch.”
“Oh, yeah, lover.”
A plate fell in the kitchen as Marianne slid down a cabinet. “I’m going to shit myself,” she wailed, laughing. She lit a cigarette. “Twist her nipples like fucking radio dials, stud!” she cried in hysterics. “Blow your load on her stomach and use it as lube to jerk off her useless little girl clit! Mommy loves a good fucking!!” She fell over on her side
“Do it,” hissed Nicole. “Do it.”
“Hey,” Marianne sputtered, “has anyone seen my drink?”
“Mommy? You see me hitting Nikki’s sissy cunt fuckhole with my meaty ass plunger?”
“You know I don’t like it when you call it that.” She made her way to the coffee table. ‘I think this is yours, Nikki. I’ll find a straw.”
Darius rolled his eyes and pulled Nicole from the table and helped her into a chair. He proceeded to fuck her face. “Eat it all you fat fucking bitch!”
“You do that just to piss me off,” Marianne said, fitting the straw to Nicole’s lips, waiting for her wheezing to subside.
“People don’t do things to piss other people off. That’s just something people say.”
“Do I look like a rube to you?”
“I’m not drinking scotch through a straw for God’s sake.”
“You’re being rude to our guest. Your fuckhole plunger was covered in shit.” She wrestled the glass into Nicole’s hand who immediately swigged it back in two large gulps. The Boy Wonder slid his dick back into his tights.
“It’s actually the vasoline that’s nasty,” said Nicole.
“And like you didn’t know that.” Darius said with a smile.
“Little children. Little fucking children.”
“Eini-meni-mini-moe. I do-not-have-to-know.” Nikki sang.
“We still have some blotter, right?”
Marianne held up a finger, walking away. “Look for it. I’ll be crying in the bathroom.”
“On the edge of the tub please. That’s our last roll of toilet paper. I’d feel bad picking you up and moving you.”
“I stand warned.”
Nicole left Darius practicing heroic poses in the plate glass mirror behind the sofa, of uncertain origin. Upstairs, she could heard Marianne singing, “Glass room, bathroom, jacked on llama. Slipping on my red dress, putting on my makeup. Fumes, it’s like heaven to him.”
“That’s not how that song goes. I don’t think. Are you on heroin?”
“No. I promise no. I’m not lying. You know that because my lips are moving. Good girl here.” She raised her hand, freeing a belt to clank on the tile floor. “Fuck me with that nub of yours.”
Nicole laughed. “Can you stand?” She began detaching her prosthetic hand.
“Poker in twenty!” cried Darius.
Marianne smiled, eyes gleaming, the picture of composure. “Let’s get started then.”
“Hey, have you hit the change yet?” Nicole asked, bracing her artificial hand between her thighs while she worked at it with her other.
“Oh my God, you’re so like the eternal whore-virgin. But no, you’re right, that’s so entirely where this is headed. Wait. You. You can’t actually have children. Just do me.”
Two hours later, the three sat around the poker table turning from one to the other. “We’re all thinking about the same thing,” said Darius.
“And that’s what we’re all thinking about,” added Nicole.
“Which is what we’re all thinking about,” said Marianne. “We have the world’s biggest problem.”
“Have you spun the cylinder?” Nicole asked.
“Spin the revolver?”
“Glock.”
