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    Summary

    | "You let 'em get away! You were right fuckin' there!" Franco pointed the butt of his Lupara at Coyle. "fuckin' incompetent pig."

     

    "You kiddin' me, half-man? Don't think I missed when you let 'em run off 'cause you had a fuckin' tantrum, just 'cause you can't handle a bottle to that misshapen head of yours." Coyle's cattle prod flickered in Franco's face.

     

    "You got a lotta goddamn nerve, you know that, sergeant?" Franco used his title like an insult, a mockery towards all his hard work. "I just can't fuckin' believe you. Running around, doin' jack shit..." |

    Language:
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