I fall backwards against a wall with an easy-chair directly to my right for added protection.  I pull my legs up, squatting in a fetal position.  I place my gun, unsure of ammunition, between my legs, holding it tightly with both hands, tucking in my head.  It's me, a human ball, with a barrel in the middle.  I try to open my eyes, but only emptiness, I'm not even sure if I'm alive. I'm terrified by the potential touch of anything.  Hours pass.  Light from the morning sun slowly creeps in.  As daylight fills the room, I make my move, I step outside. Josh has the getaway car parked outside with the engine running.  But it's too late, immediately to the left is the brown 80s sedan and slowly stepping out is the man I waited for the entire night. Fortunately, he's slow. Really slow.  I approach and fire a shot, but my arm disobeys and blows the side of his head off, he's still alive.  I reload my wooden piece of shit revolver and step up.  I place it in the center of his forehead and fire.  Chicken noodle soup all over the place, but he's still alive.  He reacts as though I didn't even shoot, "my brain is behind my eye", he says.  I take another shot at his face and jump into the car.  There's chicken noodle soup all over my clothes and the car's dashboard.   

I hope to never see him again,

    

Egghead-Chicken Noodle Soup Brain.