After standing in the middle of a crowded street for several seconds, I heard a voice call out to me from just down the street. It was a cultist, who challenged me to a one-on-one duel in the middle of the street.
Shortly thereafter, we stood back-to-back, when he produced two pistols, handed one to me, and told me to prepare myself.
"Take ten steps, then, on the count of three, turn and we'll see who's the better marksman," he explained to me.
We took our places, and he began the countdown.
"One.
"Two."
"Wait, wait," I called, "is it on the three, or the 'go' after the three?"
He sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.
"The 'go' after the three," and he restarted the countdown.
"One.
"Two.
"Three.
"Go," he shouted, and we both turned to face each other.
He shot first, hitting me in my right shoulder, thinking it would disable my gun hand. Little did he know, though, that I am actually left-handed, so I could still fire my weapon.
My shot pierced his skull right between the eyes. He collapsed, and I twirled my pistol around my trigger finger and blew the smoke off of the barrel.
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