The barrel of a gun, smoke still rising. The leather glove holds onto it, finger squeezed on the trigger. A black sleeve with silver cufflinks connects that gloved hand to a black uniform, not longer crisply ironed but dusty from a fight. A head connected to that uniform, bearing a dark mustache and an open, yelling mouth. Spit flies out. Angry eyebrows knit together, hovering over wild, angrier brown eyes.