"One more step," Sam warns, "and it may be your last."

​

     The big man, Billy, enters the conversation.   "Now, look, little lady, don't you

think the odds are not so good?  I mean, there are three of us and only one of you."

​

     "Oh, you want to call some friends to make it more even?"

​

     All three intruders laugh. "Spunky little thing, ain't she,"  Hank laughs as he

squares to Sam. 

​

     "Go ahead, draw, missy, so they won't be after me for murder."

​

     "You first, you filthy slime." 

​

     With that Hank draws his gun.  When it just clears its holster,  Sam's .357 Magnum projectile smashes it directly above its cylinder and drives the handgun to the ground, Hank wincing and cursing.