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This is the original part : The Name is Avon
Stakeouts are like yesterday's lunch. When they go right, no one remembers you, or when they go wrong, well, that would be like a mound of cat droppings taking flight. It is very wrong.
When someone introduces themselves with a menacing, "Don't turn around." And sticks the business end of a laser pistol in your back, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the ball has definitely rolled down the wrong hill and into a lake.
Avon was feeling uncooperative, which was nothing new of course, but his unlucky attacker didn't know that. He said, "I am NOT going to turn around."
"What?" Confusion can be a wonderful thing. It's like a cloud on a sunny day, asking for directions.
"Would you like me to repeat it?" asked Avon.
"But I just told YOU not to turn around."
Avon said with a sneer, "Your hearing appears to be impaired. Or your intelligence. There isn't enough empirical evidence to rule out either one. Regardless, I am NOT going to turn around, and nothing you do will change that fact."
"Is that a question?" If sarcasm could bite, the man would be checking for teeth marks.
"We'll see about that! Turn around!" Avon felt the laser pistol poke painfully into his back. That was all he needed. He pivoted swiftly before the man could react, angling his body so that the pistol passed harmlessly behind him as he pushed forward, causing his erstwhile attacker to crash backwards into the wall. Avon grabbed the gun from the stunned man and pointed it at him.
"As you can see, I can be very cooperative. You asked me to turn around and I did."
The man glared at him with a confusion that could turn tears into wine. "But…but…"
Avon asked, "Who sent you?"
For some reason the man reminded him of goat spit on a plate of tuna fish sandwiches. Not a very appealing combination, unless you liked that sort of thing. The man glared defiantly at him and stayed as silent as a cup of water in an establishment that only served wine, and not the good wine.
"I could ask you a second time." Avon pointed the pistol at the man's head. "But I won't."
"I don't believe that was one of the options." He pressed the muzzle of the gun against the man's temple.
"I'll tell you!"
Avon pulled the gun back a bit but still kept it trained at the man's head. "Talk."