[Center][h2][color=fdc68a]ALCOHOL[/color][/h2][/center]

Alcohol squinted at the smiling maniac. What the fuck was he on about? Whatever it was, it sounded like he was surrendering. He threatened a guards life, which Al didn't like. Clearly, he thought he was making some kind of power move. Right now, the best thing to do would be not to engage on a philosophical level with the pyscho. 

[color=fdc68a]"We're puttin' you in cuffs."[/color] Al declared bluntly. It was a statement of fact rather than a threat or even a command. The young man behind Pepsi looked nervous. Another guard joined him, she holstered her gun and held a baseball bat for close quarters. Pepsi was surrounded, but Al could not risk Pepsi walking with those deadly hands of his free. If Pepsi was going to attempt an escape the mayor would rather have him start fighting right now while outgunned and outmaneuvered, than later, when the warrior could act on his own terms. Even if this guy somehow managed to kill someone, he would get gunned down right after. 

Still, the preferable outcome was this guy coming quietly. Give him an inch, he'll take a mile. It was very key that right now Alcohol showed Steelbird Landing that they all had it under control. Gun him down in the streets like the savage dog he was and suddenly they might have a point. Well, Al thought grimly to himself, they don't. Nothing makes a stronger statement than a second chance.