[@Terminal]

[i]A pair of legs ending in polished black dress shoes scissored smartly past the crippled thug. Figuring that the kid and the knight had the situation covered well enough, Donny strode to what he estimated to be a relatively safe distance from the scene, about twenty yards. From there he brought the vector up and kept it trained on Mr. Arrowknee. The flaccid smile on Donny's face was catlike, nay, closer to leonine in its sardonic arrogance, however the Machiavellian mirth contained in that mug was not reflected in the hitman's eyes. His cloying Maine accent was the amiable purr of a predator in its element.[/i] "Stawp there. That pawticulah spawt'll do jus' fine. In light of recent events, Ah've extended yuh time till this moment. Yuh ten seconds stawts [b]naow[/b]. Talk."