Eric pulled his Colt M1991A Officer’s Model out of the front of his grey sweatpants and looked down at the kneeling, simpering mess in front of him.
“Would you like to hear a joke, Linus?” Eric said as he looked at the barrel of his gun as if to ignore his prisoner.
Linus didn’t say a word, but his eyes, already saucer plates, grew wider.
“So a core Linux developer finds out that a second core Linux developer has filed a restraining order against him.”
Eric locked eyes with Linus—as best he could, as they didn’t always line up—and brandished the Colt.
