You draw the Walther smoothly from your holster and put one very well-placed shot right between the large man's eyes. People shriek in fear as he falls like a tree struck by lightning. The crowd mostly scatters, but one grim fellow approaches and says "My name is Ishmael Montoya. You killed my brother. Prepare to die!"
- Stylish fedora
- Vintage Walther P-38 w/ 7 rounds
- Well-worn leather jacket
MY RIGHT NOSTRIL IS PLUGGED. IF I HAD 2 LEFT NOSTRILS I'D BE AWESOME