Ummm, excuse me, WTF are you doing

It looks like you're pointing a gun at my head. Which is lovely, isn't it, everybody?

I know you're trying to show me your gun but I really don't appreciate you pointing it at my head. It scares me. I mean, say your finger slipped on the trigger? I'd have a horribly disfigured face, you see. And I wouldn't want that. What would my wife and kids think if they saw me with a huge gaping hole in my face and gore gushing from me? I really don't think they'd be impressed. Do you? No, I didn't think so. So please, just put the gun down. And don't shoot.

Oh dear.

It appears you shot me. I'm in quite a lot of pain. Oh, I say, it's a chunk of my brain. How lovely. I have a chunk of my brain here. Perhaps you'd like to take this? After all, you retrieved it. No, I insist. Take it! I don't need it. And... ugggggghhh.

I'm dead.