[ He bares his teeth slightly in a disapproving manner, though it's clearly aimed at himself. What was he thinking? Where did any of that come from? Xanxus was just a spoiled assinine bassist, not some kind of mobster, right? So why did he feel as if a gun, a very specific one, was basically an extension of him? An extension of him that he was willing to shove down his throat, loaded, right there and then, without any kind of reassuring that he wouldn't pull the trigger, as if that didn't matter. ]

[ And that was just the beginning of it. (Since that thread will get worse before it gets better.) ]

...no, actually, I want you to punt me across the stage if I ever try to come onto him again.

[ A pause. Is it safe here? ]

There's something I didn't tell you.