Kimber looked at the face of all the man in front of him, stared at his mustache and then at the gun. The gun made him nervous, and it wasn't helping that the man kept yelling, spit dripping down his chin.
The man's eyes kept darting at the blood stains on Kimber's clothes, which made him nervous.
" The blood ... it's, um, it's not mine. Didn't cut myself shaving!" Ouch, thinks Kimber. Mustache one, humour zero. "Okay, sir. Hi. I'm Kimber. This is my girlfriend's blood. She had a bad case of explosive menstruation."