FRASIER: (twirling pistol) We'll see about THAT, Sam!
FRASIER FIRES every shot from his pearl handled revolver straight at Sam. Bottles of spirits explode and scatter alcohol and sharp glass everywhere.
FRASIER waits for the smoke to clear. BEAT.
SAM: (Hanging from the ceiling, holding a crossbow right on FRASIER.) You really thought it would be that easy, Frasier?
SAM pulls the trigger. It's over.
