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Mr. Danya
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Getting priorities straight? What was she on abou -


Janet looked at John Smith and his shotgun, standing quite clearly off a short distance from them.

Her thoughts on this? "Shit."

Her words of choice? "Oh shit!"

Her actions to take? Not quite shitting herself, but had she not taken care of business earlier the shock just might have done it.

This was definitely a crap situation.

In her moment of panic, Sophia had already began charging towards him, brandishing her lead pipe like a mad woman and shouting at him to drop the gun. "Is she nuts?!" Janet berated, looking at Sophia like she was the dumbest person on the planet? "Fuck, she's screwed!"

But even though it looked like a given at first, for some reason John had grabbed his shotgun like he was the one with a lead pipe instead of a deadly boomstick, swinging it wildly and screaming for her to back off. "Is -he- nuts?" she asked again, still standing on the spot amidst surprise, fear and confusion.

Nuts or not however, she was in a bad place right now. If that shotgun was loaded, Janet would be wide open when he was done painting the cliffs red with Sophia's crazy guts, whether he went for the other chick first or not (who must've been fucking nuts too; she was standing there waving!).

What could she do though? Run? Maybe. Stay and help? And get her pretty face shot up? No thanks. Do something? Anything? What?!

Fuck, she was stuck for ideas and stuck to the spot! For now, whilst she stood there begging for an idea of what to do, she could only watch the brawl and hope she didn't end up dead after they were done with each other.
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Fabuleux · Northern Cliffs