The Snypa (aka Damijin Spade) was on his motorcycle pulling into a gas station. He went in to pay for gas when he saw a burly man in a leather vest at the counter. The clerk had a look of fear on her face as she stared into the eyes of the large-framed man.
"Look, bitch. I won't ask you again. Give me the fucking money, now!"
"Hey, dickhead! Yeah, you," said a calm, but deep voice from behind the criminal biker.
"Who the fuck are you, jackoff?" demanded the biker.
The masked man in black said nothing.
"I asked you a question, asshole. Now answer me! Who in the fucking hell are you?!"
Silence.
"I guess I have to make you talk," said the biker, raising his .357 Magnum to the target's masked face.
The masked man reached out and grabbed the gun. Two gunshots later, there was blood and brain matter all over the floor. The frightened clerk looked down at the dead robber, whose own gun was in his mouth, then looked up at the door. She saw a motorcycle pulling away. She grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
"Hello? There's a dead man here at the gas station by Highway 60!"
Minutes later, the police were at the gas station investigating the murder. Coroners were taking pictures. Some detectives asked the scared clerk questions, which were given answers.
"I saw the killer. The dead guy here tried to rob the station and this guy in black came in and saved me."
He pulled the gun away from the robber, stuck it in his mouth and fired," replied the clerk. "It all happened so fast."
"Don't worry, ma'am, you're safe now." said one of the detectives.
"Well, he did save my life," said the clerk. "So I ask that you don't go too hard on him."
"Ma'am, this man may have saved your life," the detective started. "But he used murder to do it. He's a vigilante and vigilantism is a crime."