Bass guitar making connection with the head, a sickening sound making the hairs in the ear vibrate viciously to make the mind cringe. The bullets that were fired met the front pick-up, shattering the poor thing, others boring into the body of the guitar of bass all of this taking place as the shell casings took their sweet time falling. And this entire melee taking place as a man carrying around the title of "boss"'s death was being imagined in new ways in the head of one man and one woman. One an assassin, one a scummy man. The assassin plucked a silent note and let loose a not-so-silent round. One that exploded on contact with a steel door, the thin and weakly made shield of the scummy man. "Well, boss, I think it's over". The assassin held the guitar of bass aloft. "What shall your final action be? Begging? Fighting back with courage? I think that last one's beyond you, though." The scummy man had, of course, thoroughly sweat himself to the point of being drenched, and soiled his pants. Contempt was in every movement, her eyes cold. The scummy man's response was weakly scuttering back, away from the tip of the guitar's nose. "Sorry boy. No easy way for you. If I fired from here I'd die too. That just won't fly". At these words the assassin flipped the guitar around by the neck, and it held it backwards like a sword. "Let the beating begin". And the beating did begin starting with a vicious backhand.