Rhino

[gunbunny]

We HAD a safe word.

Rhino had assured me he could handle it, no matter how intense things got.

I should have known the b*stard's memory would flake out on me.

I remember the bead of sweat that formed on his forehead as I locked the handcuffs into place.

"Nervous?" I asked. "You seem like you've never done this before."

He didn't say a word as I withdrew the 1911 from the leather holster and placed it on the table. Dirty, hell, it was positively filthy from all the action it had seen this summer. Somewhere, deep within its frame, lingering traces of the original manufacturer's oil remained... intermingled with traces of unburnt powder and Rhino's youthful dreams.

"This won't hurt a bit." I removed the magazine and cleared the chamber. "Look at it, so helpless and vulnerable. Look at how innocent it looks now." I pocketed the surplus rounds and said with a devilish grin "You can have these back when you've earned them."

Rhino looked pale.

I removed the slide first. Then the barrel. Then the spring. The metal parts gleamed on the table underneath the harsh lighting. Lifting the frame from the table, I decided to taunt the intimidating land mammal.

"You said I should practice dry firing..."

I should have known that his consent for abuse did not extend to his prized pistol. Sure, sure, I was welcome to torment him by cleaning the darned thing in front of him, but to risk damaging a defenseless firearm? Never have I made a more foolish choice. The handcuffs held... as the chair shattered into a thousand pieces. It was in this rampage, this valiant effort to protect the 1911, that Rhino acquired his head injury. The photos tell quite an incomplete story - I'm currently in secret service protective custody recovering from multiple Surefire-inflicted injuries.

I'm not sure where he had been hiding the Surefire. I'm sure I don't want to know. I'm just glad he survived the incident, as did I...

Tina