Gideon didn't stand up. He didn't even draw the gun from the holster. He simply unclasped the retention strap.
KA-THOOM.
“You have to shoot the projectionist,” the outlaw said. “Through the screen. Back in your world. One bullet. Miss, and the disc scratches forever.”
Want me to continue the story (the standoff scene) or turn this into a short script format? the gunslingers bd50
KA-THOOM.
KA-THOOM.
Gideon sighed, a dry, rasping sound. He slowly reached for his glass, took a sip of the whiskey, and then set it down with a heavy clink . Gideon didn't stand up
The screen burst into life. Elias was no longer in his apartment. He was standing on that sun-baked street. The heat was real. The smell of horse sweat and gunpowder was real.
Gideon Vance sat in the corner booth, his back to the wall. He didn't look like much—just a wiry man in a long, tattered duster, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. But the patrons of The Rusty Spur knew better than to bother the stranger. They knew what the brass cylinder strapped to his thigh was.
The neon sign flickered above the entrance of The Rusty Spur , buzzing like a dying insect. Outside, the dust of the outer rim swirled in reddish clouds, but inside, the air was thick with smoke, cheap whiskey, and the smell of ozone. KA-THOOM
Kael’s two lieutenants froze for a split second, stunned by the sheer brutality of the kinetic impact. That was all Gideon needed.
The BD50 was never a disc. It was a prison. And the only way out was to pull the trigger on the god who ran the projector.
Elias smiled. He’d always hated the theatrical cut anyway.