How the Irish Play Roulette, a boondock saints fanfic

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The light of the bare lightbulb caught the plaited silver of the revolver that Connor held in his hand as he watched the cylinder spin.

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Spinning the revolver again, Murphy had a crooked smile filling his face.

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"Ye ever heard o' Russian Roulette, Murph?"

The revolver kept clicking in his brother's hand as Murphy looked to a chair that sat a man, bound and gagged.

"No Con. I don't believ I 'ave," Murphy answered, even thought he knew full and well what it was, "Wha' is it?"

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"Oh, Murphy. It's a fun game," Connor stretched with an evil sounding laugh behind his words, "Ye get a wee revolver, like this one we 'ave here,"

Connor whipped his hand over the cylinder, while he waved it in front of the bound man. Sweat was puddling on the man's forehead as he jumbled around, trying to get loose and away from the six shooter.

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"Oh on, Con," Murphy pouted fake-ly, "I don' think he wan's te play,"

Connor scowled and snapped the cylinder back into place with violent swing of his arm, slamming both hands along with the gun onto the table that was placed before them. The man jumped and jarred his chair across the hard floor.

"Well tha's to FUCKIN' bad!" Connor spat at the man, aiming the revolver square at his head.

A whine escaped the man's gagged mouth as he began to cry for mercy.

"Ye better be glad it's not loaded," Murphy proclaimed to the man as he stepped next to his brother, coping his stance.

"Yeah, but not for long," Connor growled as he rose from the table, "Shall we play, then?"

Handing the revolver to Murphy, the darker haired twin opened the gleaming cylinder once again.

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"So explain to me what Russian Roulette is, Con," Murphy spoke to the room as he sat delicately on the table, admiring the gleaming revolver.

"It's quite easy, Murph," Connor said, gesturing for him to hand him the gun, "The cylinder has six chambers, aye? Well to play the game, you just slip one bullet into the cylinder,"

Murphy sat watching Connor place a single copper bullet into the cylinder and closed it firmly, handing it back to Murphy.

"The rest is rather self explanatory," Connor smiled wickedly as he guided his brother to the man, placing the gun to the side of the gagged males head.

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Went the revolver as Murphy spun the cylinder once, twice, three times. It came to a stop and the man began to whimper and jostle around, trying to escape this torture.

Connor leaned down and whispered loudly into the man's ear, smiling evilly.

"Remember, the bullet could be anywhere. Pull the trigger, Murph," Connor ordered, stepping aside.

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The first chamber was empty. The man breathed a sigh of muffled relief.

"Ye goin' te tell us or are ye goin' to have to take another chance?" Murphy asked, seeming rather bored with the whole thing.

The man looked up and scowled, trying to spit at Murphy's feet, but the gag preventing him.

"We could always add another bullet," Connor added and the man shook his head violently, "Pull the trigger,"

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The man still sat in one piece in the chair, shaking in his bounds.

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Silence

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Nothing, but a living man about to piss his pants.

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"Ye're one lucky fucker," Connor muttered, coming over to the man, "But yer lucks run out. This is the sixth shot,"

Connor went to stand by his twin.

"Ye ready to talk or ready to die? Makes no difference to us," Murphy stifled a yawn as he watched the man quake.

The man sat there, motionless and sweating like a pig.

"Pull the trigger, Murph," Connor dismissed everything with a wave of his hand, "We'll find someone else. There's ton's of rats like ye in thes city,"

Murphy cocked the revolver hammer back and went to pull the trigger when the man started to wriggle and talk through the gag. Connor was fast on his feet to remove the cloth from the man's mouth.

"Alright! Alright! I'll tell you! He'll be at the corner of Dorchester and Athens Street! Fifty kilos of cocain and the body of the dead cop! Three o'clock AM!"

There was silence as both Connor and Murphy looked at the man.

"Shoot him," Connor said simple.

"What!" shouted the man

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The man still sat, full alive, hunched over in a futile attempt to defend himself. Murphy brought the gun away from the man's head, scowling deeply in disgust. Connor came over to the front of the table and leaned over so the man had to look at him. The light haired twin moved his tongue around in his closed mouth, soon producing the copper bullet that he had slipped into the chamber earlier, now perched between his front teeth. Connor took the bullet out of his mouth and slammed it on the table, butt side down, as he scowled just as deeply as his brother.

Murphy tossed the revolver on the table next to the bullet, with the cylinder open to show empty chambers. They both exited the interrogation room in silence as they joined Smecker outside, lighting up and the threesome made their way to the corner of Dorchester and Athens Street.

It's short, but I rather like it! :) My sadistic moment for today. Tell me what you think and if you actually get it or not. . .