Wayne Senior twitched. Wayne Senior smiled in slow-motion. Wayne Senior built a slow-motion drink.

One hand's clenched. It's on the bar rail. One hand's pure free.

Their eyes met. Their eyes held. Their eyes locked shitfire.

Wayne pulled his cuffs. Wayne freed a ratchet. Wayne snared one wrist. The cuff snapped on. Wayne Senior jerked back. Wayne jerked him back in.

Wayne flicked the spare cuff. Wayne freed the ratchet. Wayne cuffed the bar rail crisp.

Good cuffs/LVPD/Smith Wesson.

Wayne Senior jerked. The cuff chain held. The bar rail squeaked. Wayne pulled a knife. Wayne flicked the blade. Wayne cut the bar phone cord.

Wayne Senior jerked the chain. Wayne Senior dumped his stool. Wayne Senior spilled his drink.

Wayne twirled the stick. "I reconverted. Mr. Hughes was pleased to know that I'm a Mormon."

Wayne Senior jerked. The ratchets scraped. The bar rail held strong. The chain links went _screeee_.

Wayne walked out. Wayne stood by his car. The Strip lights twinkled waaay off. Wayne saw incoming beams.

The car pulled up. The car stopped. Janice got out. Janice weaved and anchored her feet.

She twirled a golf club. Some kind of iron. Big head and fat grips.

She walked past Wayne. She looked at him. He smelled her cancer breath. She walked inside. She let the door swing.

Wayne stood tiptoed. Wayne made a picture frame. Wayne got a full window view. The club head arced. His father screamed. Blood sprayed the panes.