'Gwynn?'
'Yes, Mark?'
'Would you consider it a favor if I asked you to deal with this guy as you saw fit?'
'Oh, not at all. It would be my pleasure,' Gwynn says.
'Who's this? Your goddamned thug's a 120 pound chick?' the boss says.
'Barty James Winchester,' Gwynn says, and the boss freezes, 'Look into my eyes.'
For such a small action, the intimidation factor is real goddamned high.
'What the hell, you fucking witch,' Bart says, but he sounds resigned, monotone.
'Listen to me, little man. Now, come over here,' Gwynn says.
'I ain't doing nothing you tell me,' Bart says, and starts walking towards Gwynn.
Out of nowhere, Gwynn produces a silver spoon. Mostly a spoon. It is definitely sharper than any spoon you have seen.
'Keep your eyes open, Barty James Winchester,' she says, 'Lift your head up.'
He does so. Slowly, Gwynn moves the silver spoon towards the right eye of Barty.
'What the fuck! What the fuck! Get away from me, you crazy bitch!'
'You never saw us. You never will see us again. I am just making sure.'
Tim screams. He drops on his knees behind the counter. 'Oh man, oh man, I saw nothing, I saw nothing, I swear!'
'Imma kill you! You're dead! You're fucking dead!'
>This is just about what you expected. Maybe she's bluffing. Let her proceed.
>Stop her.
>'Ready to deal yet, Barty?'
>Other