Gibbons:
You ever watch lions at the zoo? You can always tell which ones were captured in the wild by the look in their eyes. The wild cat. She remembers running across the plain, the thrill of the hunt. Four hundred pounds of killing fury, locked in a box. But after a while, their eyes start to glaze over, and you can tell their soul has died. The same thing happens to a man. Leavenworth Federal Penetentiary is no joke. They'll take a wild man like you and throw him in solitary just for the fun of it. No more mountains to board, no more oceans to surf. Just a 6-by-8 cell with no window and only a bucket to shit in. You can avoid all of that by doing me this small favor.
Xander Cage:
You don't have shit on me.
Gibbons:
I noticed you have three X's tattooed on the back of your neck. I think that's rather appropriate, since you're looking at three strikes. Grand theft auto, reckless endangerment, and that little bridge stunt of yours makes you a three-time loser. Maybe you ought to call yourself "Triple X." But if you do what I want, I'll make all your little recent criminal transgressions go away and let you get back to that pathetic excuse of a life.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:22
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