Ye, every time I’m in a diner, if I see a waitress even glance toward that coffee pot or the tea kettle, I’m pulling my gold plated Desert Eagles and mag-dumping right there. I have to do it. It’s self-defense. It would be their fault
Especially if it’s to a tiny elderly wonan in her nightshirt trembling in distress, who asked for help, trying to obey my every command, and I only have one guy on backup and the long gun is not in place.
Especially if I’ve commanded her to take it off the stove: they’re sneaky like that