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The man’s body language implied intimacy between the two, but the woman seemed to be teetering on the edge between intimacy and frustration. You didn’t know what their relationship was, but they were close. You were sure of that.
<span class="mu-r">“You promise that we’ll be done after this next job?”</span> she asked.
The man nodded. <span class="mu-g">“I promise. Now, you should head over to the main workshop. Jimmy’s probably losing his shit without you there to keep Drago off his back.”</span>
The girl smiled. <span class="mu-r">“It’s okay, grandpa. I know you and everyone else call him ‘Blackie’ when I’m not around.”</span>
The old man chuckled nervously. <span class="mu-g">“It’s just a nickname he picked up in prison, sweetheart. It just didn’t feel appropriate to bring it up now.”</span>
<span class="mu-r">“Well, I appreciate you trying to be considerate. For once”</span> she said, pulling him into a brief hug. The two parted ways after that, and the old man let out a long sigh.
As you lowered yourself down on a webline, you slid your gun out of its holster and lined it up with his head. The Vulture was currently pouring himself a glass of scotch.
What will you do?
>Put a bullet in his head. No hesitation, no mercy.
>”Cute kid. Can’t say that I see the family resemblance, though.”
>”Scream and you’re dead. I’m a lot quicker than you when you’re not wearing the bird-suit, old man.”
>”Nice place you’ve got here. I had a hideout once...until someone came and blew it up. Cryin’ shame, that.”
>”Now that the kids are out of the room…let’s talk business.”
>Write-in.
