Completely lost, it was all Renard could do to keep the gun pointed in the general direction of this vitriolic man while Izzy unraveled the mystery. On the bright side though, he appreciated how ‘noir’ it all seemed. Dangerously, John caught him daydreaming.

“You dolt,” John sneered, “Do you even know how to use that?” The answer was an obvious ‘No’, but Renard wasn’t going to say that. It wasn’t loaded in any case.

“Bonito, show him you mean business,” Izzy teased. Was she mad? Had she forgotten it wasn’t loaded.

John made a dismissive noise and stepped to go around Renard to Izzy, “Come with me you half mad…” The gun, not being loaded, was nearly useless. Mostly out of reflex Renard reached across with his free hand and smacked John in the face.

“You…” Renard started to say.

“Son of a…” John yelled, stopped in his tracks, “I could…” But Renard didn’t let him finish. He dropped the gun and smacked him again, harder.

Renard yelled, “When you’re slapped, you’ll take it and like it!”