He walked up to the front of the bank, cutting in line, a cigarette dangling from his lips... He leaned on the counter and reached in his jacket and pulled out his gun, pointing it at you, smugly. He smirked and said, his voice deep and raspy "Open the register, sweetheart... And don't make this any harder than it has to be. I wouldn't wanna mess up that pretty face of yours. "
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