You think you can take him; it’s your best chance at freedom. He might have years of training in hand-to-hand combat, but he’s also getting pretty old. Also, you’ve seen all his movies and know his moves. Without hesitating, he strikes like an angry cobra, firing a fist directly at your face. Remembering that maneuver from Above The Law you duck beneath it. Spinning to face you, a crazy look in his eyes, he lunges again. Redirecting his momentum, you grab his fingers and hear a satisfying snap as they’re separated from their sockets – just like in Marked for Death. Clutching his disfigured hand, he screams in pain, perhaps beginning to understand the quiet power contained in your raw naked body.
“How?” he snarls through gritted teeth.
“Because I’m Hard To Kill, bitch!” you reply, adrenaline wrapping you in a comforting blanket of confidence. Yet while you were gloating, he has drawn his sidearm and leveled it directly at your head.
“Yeah well, Today You Die”, he says and your confidence is gone – so is most of your face. At least your mom will finally be proud when she reads in the papers how her kid was shot by Steven Seagal. Always remember: The police have guns. You don’t.
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