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Panel 1 (wide):
Sam and Denise stare in disbelief as Lewis unloads an entire magazine into a distant target with ungodly confidence.

SFX: BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM

Panel 2:
Sam and Denise poke their heads around the corner, watching Lewis bring the target closer to himself with a smug grin on his face.

Panel 3:
Same view. The target has arrived - eight dead-eyed shots in the chest, four in the head.

WORDING: Where did you learn to shoot like that?

RUSSELL: My HRT doctor told me I needed more “manly” hobbies.

RUSSELL: I picked a hobby that would persuade him to stop asking stupid questions and hand over the damn drugs.

Panel 4:
Denise is impressed by Lewis’ prowess, Sam rather less so.

SOLOMON: Good on you! I think you’ll have to do all the shooting for us at this rate.

WORDING: Preferably as little as possible.

RUSSELL: I’ll endeavour to keep the Dirty Harry impressions in check - also, your phone’s ringing, guv.

SFX: ~diddle-ee-dee diddle-ee-dee diddle-ee-dee deeeee~

Panel 5:
Same view. Sam takes the ear protectors off and snatches his phone.

WORDING: God damn…

WORDING: Wording?