So. Anyway. Where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: The white guy -- "Jim," going by his friend's immediate and frantic screams -- collapses onto his back onto the cold, wet asphalt as the meth-head disappears into the night and Jim's bar buddy yells for the kitchen aide to call 911. And as The Terrible Timpani Of Rapidly Escalating Medical Crises beat themselves into a frenzy on the soundtrack, the bar buddy attempts CPR, but it's pretty obvious Jim was dead before he hit the pavement. Well, it was pretty obvious Jim was dead before he hit the pavement until Jim suddenly gasps himself awake and sits up. D'OH! "I feel okay," Jim realizes as he tugs his shirt down to reveal a decidedly unbloody gunshot wound right above his heart. The bar buddy gets an eyeful of the depressingly neat hole in his friend's chest and wonders, "How you even alive?" Jim thinks real hard about that one for a second before goggling, "I don't know!" And then?
Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul, as is his wont, before your faithful recapper's faithful recapping companion collapses against his cushions in the beginnings of a righteous snit, and Raoul, hon, what gives? "You know perfectly well 'what gives,' you silly little man!" Raoul shrieks by way of reply -- utilizing his immaculately honed claws to provide the necessary air quotes, I should note -- before allowing two perfect circles of furious smoke to pop from his outraged nostrils, and I'm sure I do, friend of friends, but it might make you feel a bit better if you elaborated, perhaps? "Well! I don't know what could possibly make me feel better at this point! The first episode of this charming little Thursday-evening divertissement in months, and where is the GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?! Certainly not on the screen, I can tell you that!" So, I'm guessing tonight's little plot twist was not to your liking? "IT MOST CERTAINLY WAS NOT!" Raoul! Volume! Please! "Well, I am sorry, I'm sure, but what is the point of this evening's entertainment if a screaming hail of bullets utterly fails to result in absolute fountains of blood gushing from gaping, sucking chest wounds!? It's so... it's so UNFAIR! I! I! I! [Sob!]" Oh, you poor thing. Here, have a Kleenex and pull yourself together, for while this evening's presentation is indeed sadly lacking in the gore department, I believe there's more than enough violence peppered throughout to satisfy even your appetite for such things. "[Sniff!] Really?!" It's true -- don't you remember the little kid? And the rock salt? And the smiting? "Oh, I am such a silly sometimes! Of course I do!" Then may I continue? "By all means! [Honk!]" Excellent.