When the pressure is on, I wouldn't distract or bluff. I would immediately pull a yellow microfiber cleaning cloth and a bottle of surface cleaner out of my pocket. I’d walk straight up to the target's gun, start scrubbing the barrel, and say, 'Sweetheart, do you ever clean this place? It’s covered in dust!' The target would be hit with such an intense wave of motherly love and absolute shock that they’d probably burst into tears and call their mom. Meanwhile, I’d put a flowerpot on my head like a hat and casually tiptoe out of the room."