kadamkills.

Under normal circumstances he would speak his mind, but, with a gun against his head, the warm metal of it nestled against the back of his skull, he was having a hard time finding any words at all. The dirty bandit sonuvabitch had snuck up on him while he’d been distracted strangling the life out of one of his buddies, and was now shouting something unintelligible at him over the sound of distant gunfire. Other than that little nitpick, Jack was having a fabulous time. This particular bandit camp had never looked better, what with it being on fire and everything.

A gunshot rung out, echoing against the metal walls of the nearby buildings and Jack had to whip his head to the side when the splatter of blood and grey matter sprayed towards him, coating the entire left side of his mask. He made a loud, affronted noise as it dripped from him, sticky and red and all over his favorite jacket.
     “Seriously, babe?! This is going to take me weeks to get out of this fabric!!”  

He stood over the body he was perched over, shaking his hands in an effort to get as much of the gross off of him as possible. He grumbled when it didn’t work.
     “What took you so long anyway? What if he’d shot me, huh? Then who’d sign your paychecks and have awesome, amazing make-outs with you.”