From "Last Resort: Captain (#1.1)"
Wild guess. Up until an hour ago, you ran things here. Drugs, guns, girls. Whatever it is, it's no match for the boomer floating in your harbor. You're done, friend.
Ahh. I understand there might be some cultural differences here, so I'll translate. When someone where I'm from calls you friend, they don't consider you one.
This is my island. If I allow your presence, it comes with certain terms and conditions. Is that clear, friend?
He's first. He's the only real shooter in your bunch, so the first bullet's his. The big fella's probably gonna need two in the chest to make sure his fat ass goes down, so two he gets. And while Dopey over there fumbles for his gun in his back waistband...