Jake Randolph, Private Investigator Pt. 89

I clapped my hands together and rubbed them.

"Okay, gentlemen," and I used that term quite loosely, "what's say we get better acquainted?"

The goon with the gun growled, "What's say you shut the hell up before I pistol whip your sorry ass? I owe you a good beating, ya know?"

He was the one I knocked out first with the baseball bat.

"That wasn't very sporting, ya know? Hitting me from behind wasn't nice, ya know? That's a sucker punch, ya know?"

I grinned, "Technically I used a bat, so you couldn't really call it a punch, ya know?"