"Rough day?" Nancy asks from two seats over, having observed the man and the shotgun as he came in. After all, Nancy only resorted to guns herself when things got really really bad.
"You must be a professional then." She replied, only sort of questionably, before taking a sip of her gin and tonic. "I've always been terrified. I mean, I have a decent shot, but I'm still fucking terrified to take it."
"I - used to be a soldier," he said, by way of explanation. "You - stop being afraid of taking the shot, and - you start being afraid of receiving one."
"I always used to snake out in one way or another." A beat. "My sons...are another thing completely though." She said protectively and sort of angrily, despite one of them not being under threat in a while.
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"Not - too much so."
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Although, now, he isn't much afraid of either.
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"Danger of being a pot dealer to support them."
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