The two lean men sat coiled, perched across from one another, their boots stained with calves' blood. Their hands were rough, like raw leather. The man facing the bar's door dug his knife further into the raw pine table. The man with the moustache eyed the twisting knife only half afraid.
Moustache: Tell me again.
Knife: There's two kinds.
Moustache (shoving the chair out from under him): I know that! Don't you think I know that already?
Knife (stretching back his arms in a peacock display of relaxation—just enough to reveal the six shooter under his arm): Two kinds. Checked. And unchecked.
Moustache: And it is something that happens—
Knife: An event.
Moustache: Yes, an event that can occur during the execution of code.
Knife: It's ...