"I'm Zash the Stampede, the $$6,000,000 man!" the guy confirms loudly, shooting up at the sky. "Anyone standing against me is doomed!"

"Are you sure? I heard he was a lot handsomer than you."

"Why, you," he splutters and shoots the floor right in front of Zash. "Now shoo! I'm doing very important criminal business here!"

Zash can psychically hear the woman wanting to facepalm and: same, girl.

"Well, Zash the Stampede can talk, right? We have a lot in common, we share initials!"

"...what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Zash the Stampede."

"I told you he was gonna be here—" whispers the guy pointing his gun at the bank employees urgently.

"Shut up!" screeches "Zash". "There can only be one Human Typhoon here! Give me a reason not to shoot you!!"

"Or have you shot," says the guy with the machine gun.

"Uh, hey, I uh..." says the girl with the machine gun, noticing something.

"Do you know where we are?" Zash asks with some curiosity.

"...the bank?" replies "Zash" dumbly.

"Warrens City," sighs the machine gun girl.

"Right! I knew that."

"And do you know what Warrens City is famous for?"

"...the gunsmith? He's dead, impostor!"

"Maybe! But what he did do was outfit this whole town with guns. Now, I know you've heard the rumours about Frank Marlon guns over the years, but tell me..."

And he looks around at the people suddenly popping around walls and out from behind crates and through windows, one by one, everywhere, dozens of them surrounding them completely and bringing their Frank Marlons out. "Do you think you're lucky enough that if the whole town shoots you'll survive?"

"—what the fuck you never told me these people—"

"I didn't know!" exclaims machine gun girl. "I thought all Marlons were scrap metal—"

"It's a bluff!" cries fake Zash almost as if he's trying to convince himself of that as he decides it's a good idea to try to shoot—

Except the actual Zash is already holding his gun again in a fraction of a blink of an eye and another fraction later he's shot fake Zash's gun out of his hands before he could even start to aim. "That would have ended really badly for you, Human Typhoon. Thank me for saving your life."

Three separate people cock their guns and point them at fake Zash.

"Thank you," he squeaks.

"Hey uh I think this was a bad idea actually," says rifle guy nervously, eyeing real Zash's gun and making some calculations in his head about how fucking fast Zash just did what he did from a position where both of his hands had been raised. That was... a bit terrifyingly superhuman.

"It really was," Zash says with feeling. "Now, I am going to abuse these people's goodwill towards me and ask them to not kill you—"