“I bet he’d shoot your ass if you pushed him.”
“Hell with that. He’s just a mall cop. They don’t got guns”
Ivan pointed at the guy. “What’s he got on his belt, then?”
“A taser, maybe. Or pepper spray. It’s not a goddamned gun.”
The guard stood like an old west cowboy, thumbs tucked into his waistband. He hadn’t caught them doing anything this time, but he clearly remembered them from earlier in the summer. He had chased them and called them punks.
“I bet his gay hair is a wig.”
“Ten bucks says you can’t snatch it, dude.”