i sank into my chair , took one last shot because it was thrust at me insistently and greg , pointing at the television screen a moment then waving at it dismissively , started in on telling donald some meandering story about something that had happened at the store where he worked and midsentence , two minutes in , mid-word donald pulled the gun from his pocket , thrust it toward greg , pulled the trigger , hardly a flash , the crisp slap of the shot , gregs body going an odd step , like a cartoon slipping on ice , then the room was silent , even with the pointless burble of the television going .