The two hurled insults at each other through the car window, tossing the same few derogatory words back and forth, but Mark seemed to have systematically learned how to curse, spitting out obscenities with an especially filthy tongue.
The fatso couldn't take the insults any longer, failing to outswear Mark, he turned and huffed his way into the house. When he came back out, he had something black and heavy in his hand.
Mark saw the fatso emerge with a Remington M870 shotgun and felt a chill run down his spine; he floored the gas pedal and zoomed away with a buzz.
Bang!! The fatso fired a shot into the sky.
He then scurried onto the street, cussing out the departing taillights of the Mustang, firing two more shots that all missed, "Come back here! Coward! If you've got the guts, don't run! Fxxk you!!"
