buzzbarton:
Buzz took his insult with a pinch of sugar instead of salt, snorting at it before letting it go. A rare move for him, but he had caught him on one of his better moods.
(Not in part thanks to the substance he had just taken.)
“Let ‘em fuckin’ try!” Buzz announced, arms out by his side as if daring the universe to spit out a worthy opponent for him. Now that would really getting him jolly.
Those same arms lowered at his question, one remaining that reached out between them and fashioned his hand like a gun, his index finger lining up with the path of Gerard’s forehead as he aimed with his good eye.
“You know. The strap.”
He imitated pulling a trigger, his tongue clicking against his mouth for audible effect.
“Bang.”
“And I’m sure they will. Usually a bombing doesn’t start and stop at just one.” Gerard mused. He wondered if this was the kind of guy who was so battle hungry that it made him stupid. Seemed like it.
“Ah, right. Of course. That strap.” He cocked a brow to the imitation gun, not sure if he was supposed to be intimitated or something. “So how long do you plan on wearing that for?”















