Like a strobe light on crack, the
sparks fly, the rats bounce, tumble in a maelstrom of tails, fur, and
little feet, pick themselves up, and scamper on in a full-tilt
panic-stricken frenzy, until, some multiple dozens of yards away, they
are finally safely out of range of the Wild Bunch's aim. Which is just
as well, because after loosing off hundreds of shots, most of which
connected, they're almost all out of ammo, and the laughing they're
doing is degrading their accuracy severely.
"There ya go, baby, those rats won't bother you any more, okay?" says Papa EFX.
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