*click* *click* *click*

[color=a2d39c]”Topsy for Gods sake, put the gun down!”[/color] She giggled deviously as she watches the pudgy manager motion with his hands as if that would compel her to cease her demonstration. He was mistaken. 

[color=7ea7d8]“Mister York, I’m just wanting to make sure you get the point of this show. See what I did there? Point and I have you at-“[/color]“Topsy, what the hell is wrong with you?” He shouted, nearly falling over his desk as she kept the weapon leveled at him. Of course, it was unloaded with the safety on, for now. [color=7ea7d8]“I’m just trying to put on a show, and people want spectacle so-“[/color] She reached into her coat, producing a single round and sliding it into the chamber of the revolver. She withdrew the weapon, cocking the hammer and pressed the cold steel against her temple. Mr. York’s eyes widened in horror.

[color=8493ca]“It’s memorization, I’m going to guess what chamber has the bullet. It’ll keep people on edge and-“[/color] She never got to finish.

[color=a2d39c]“You are not shooting yourself on my stage!”[/color] He bellowed, trying to make an advance past his desk, though it did little to stop Topsy’s determination. [color=8493ca]“Okay, but hear me out. Think of the money.”[/color] She stated, wiggling her now loaded gun about. Mr. York didn’t seem to certain. 

Topsy just sighed, and pulled the trigger.

Then proceeded to laugh as the *click* sent Mr. York into another screaming fit. He was going to see the appeal into this act sooner or later. Topsy Thompson changed her plans for no one.