Shoot it Out by Deus-Nocte on

Lenny reclined on the dingy motel duvet.

Kurtz stood, Glock in hand. “I wanna return this.”


“Don’t shoot right.”

“Maybe you’re a shit shot. This ain’t Walmart.”

Kurtz tossed the gun on the bed.

“It’s been used.” Lenny grabbed it, sniffed the barrel. “Recently. Ain’t taking it.”

Kurtz scowled. “Does boss know about this little side business?” Lenny’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I tell him when I return.”

Lenny looked down the sight. “You say it don’t shoot right?”

“That’s right.”

Lenny fingered the trigger, raised it, put a bullet in Kurtz’s head. “I have a strict no return policy.”

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