“Do you ever think you may have too many guns?” Dave asked Blaire over the noise of the squad arming themselves.
Blaire bent over to stuff two derringers in his ankle holsters. The Two shotguns on his back toppled over his head as he leaned forward. His other guns rattled with every move. He stood back up and all the guns settled back onto him.
Blaire looked confused by the question, “No. Why?”
He was equipped with the two ankle derringers and two shotguns slung across his back as previously mentioned, as well as four handguns around his waist – two on each side. He had a sawed off shotgun on the outside of each thigh, with two mini axes holstered in his inner thighs, which aren’t guns, but still. His chest holster carried two handguns, as well as miniature replicas of those guns above them. His boots were also technically guns too, though they were also really good boots. With a click of the heel a bullet would fire out of the toe. It was even rumored that he swallowed a gun before every mission.
“Well, no one else on the force really has that many guns and they don’t seem to have any problems,” he said. Before Blaire could interrupt, he quickly added, “And yes, you are the number one detective with the most arrests, but I don’t know. Doesn’t it just seem excessive?”
“No? Not really.”
“It’s just like, come on.”
“What do you know? You don’t even put your neck on the line.” Blaire scoffed.
It was true. Dave was just a desk jockey. A glorified accountant for the police department. He didn’t even have a gun.
“What I do is important- that’s not what this is about anyway, I’m just saying-”
Blaire started to get heated, “If you know so much, give me one reason why it would be bad to have this many guns?”
“Let’s just drop it. I’m sorry I brought it up,” Dave recoiled into himself.
“Hey, everyone!,” he called out to the other officers, “Dave’s got something to say.”
The officers stopped loading up and stared at Dave.
“Come on, Dave. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have this many guns, since I’m obviously such an idiot.”
“Don’t make me do this. let’s just drop it,” Dave pleaded.
“Oh, what? Now you don’t have an opinion on it?”
Dave sighed, “Well, I guess it could be really heavy.”
“Not for me.” Blaire jumped up and down with ease. The officers barked and hollered.
“Ok well uh- it only takes one bullet to stop a perp.” He didn’t sound confident in his answer.
“We’re going after the Valensari Cartel. There are over 100 members. All deadly. All fully armed.”
“There’s a lot of officers though,” Dave mumbled almost inaudibly.
“I’m commanding this squad. It’s my job to keep them all safe. Psh! See man? You’re just jealous. I don’t get you.”
Someone threw a football at Dave’s ear, and the room erupted in cackles. He rubbed his ear as two officers strapped a grenade launcher on Blaire’s back.
The Chief called out from the doorway, “Let’s load up, boys! It’s time to go!”
They shoved Dave out of the way as they filed out, Blaire clanking with each step.
“See you after I’m done kicking ass, accountant.”
Blaire was killed later that day by friendly fire.