Pulling A Gun

  "You know why Jack. You and I didn't agree on certain practices."

"I didn't do anything that other businessmen aren't doing," he states stubbornly. "If you want to be the best, you have to be prepared to get your hands dirty sometimes."

"And how is that working for you, eh Jack?"

He stares at me long and hard before getting to his feet slowly.

"You're very smug, right now. Aren't you?"

"For the last time, Jack. I'm sorry this happened to you but I do not glory in your failure. In any event, you can always start over and do things by the book this time."

"I suppose I can. Or I can get even. I rather believe it'd be more fun to get even."

At his words, my hands inch beneath the desk where I have a gun hidden.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" Jack orders, pulling a gun from beneath his jacket and pointing it at me. "Do it now or I swear to God. I'll have your brain splattered on the wall behind you!"