Water in a Gun

What? They didn’t accept gold coins? This was a blasphemy! What was wrong with these people? The ferry burped loudly (though it sounded more like a horn or something) and signaled its departure. Frustrated, Fion pulled out her pistol and pointed it at the crazy ticket man who was still standing on the deck of the ferry.

“Stop the ferry or I’ll shoot you!” She hissed, staring at him menacingly. The ticket master looked genuinely surprised for a moment before he realized that the pistol currently aimed at his head was more of an antique 18th century pistol than an actual killing machine. He bursted out laughing.

“Great show, but I must ask you to leave. The ferry has a schedule to follow.”

Fion pulled the trigger out of frustration. Unfortunately, it seemed to be completely waterlogged.

“Damn pistol.” She cursed, slamming it against the railing. Maybe there was still a small spark of dry powder left, but immediately, a pellet flew out of the gun and bounced off the hull of the ship, leaving a small dent in it. The people around her began to scream.

“Someone call 911! A terrorist!”

Fion looked around confused and annoyed. What were they all freaking out about? A dent in that ship? Honestly she was getting nowhere with this.

“Come on Ruben, there has to be another ship.” She muttered, storming off. Unfortunately straight into the arms of the police. A man dressed in some bizarre uniform grabbed her and hauled her into a car along with Ruben.

“Miss, we are going to have to arrest you.”

The End

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