Amandas fingers flew, twisting both knobs all the way to +10 as she turned the gun towards her own stomach. Robert stopped his cartoonish posing as he realized what Amanda was about to do.

"NO!" He shouted as he lunged at her. "Don't even think about it you bitch!" His fist impacted her jaw just as the gun fired, sending her flying across the room. Her limp body struck the couch hard enough to knock it over. Still she continued on, careening into the wall, and finally slumping to the ground, her huddled body obscured by the couch. Plaster dust filled the air, billowing from the Amanda shaped crater in the wall and the sound of the gun clattering to the ground somewhere in the room rang out in the silence.

"Amanda! Who the hell do you think are you are?" The voice of Amandas shocked mother broke the silence, she had entered the room just in time to see her daughter get launched across the room by some muscle bound psycho.

Amanda's father stared dumbly at his son, shocked into immobility by fear and a mind that wasn't able to process what his eyes were seeing.

Robert looked at his own fist for a moment, shocked at his own strength. Finally he wiggled his fingers and grinned maliciously at his parents. "So what do you two think you're going to do about it," he sneered, "huh?"

"Oh my God," Stacy gasped, realizing that this was her son standing before her.

But who did the gun hit?