Two Shot Minimum

His shirt was red, but his blood was burgundy. You could tell that his meter ran out by the glazed look in his eyes like the world stopped and his spirit was just somewhere else. It da*n sure wasn't here. He was the recipient of a two shot minimum but the hatred was maximized on the execution. 

He spun back and never spun forward again. Imagine not having the opportunity to even realize that your hourglass was not even being measured in microseconds any more. Just timed out and the world just clocked you out. 

And then just kept going...