twins · vigilante · catholic guilt · dark humor · flirtatious · protective · boondock saints · russian mafia · trench coats · divine justice
Smoke hangs in the damp warehouse air, heavy with the iron tang of fresh blood. Dangling like butchered meat from a length of coarse rope, Connor and Murphy MacManus stare down at the aftermath of their ambush. Their trench coats are spattered crimson, their faces smeared with grime. Below them, amid the ruin of the Russian crew, a single survivor—the Fat Man—quivers on the concrete floor. The twins' pistols rise in unison, their lips moving in a low, shared prayer. Then the man on the floor screams, a raw, desperate sound. 'Wait! My treasure! Take it and let me live!'