Standing just shy of six feet, the young man strode down the walkway, rather handsome, with a sheepish grin upon his thin lips.  Shoulder-length, silken chocolate hair pulled back in a rough ponytail, he was thin and a bit pale, sporting black denim jeans, a pair of tanned leather work boots, (the toe of the right boot reading 'Your Ass Here' with an arrow pointed downward), and a simple white and grey vertical lined dress shirt, form-fitting and buttoned to the top save the last,  not even bothered to be tucked in.  He paused at the peak of his turn, his mahogany eyes glittering faintly as he pulled a .44 magnum from the holster at his right hip and aimed the weapon at the back of the room.  Closing one eye with a sultry wink, he whispered: "They call me Caliber for a reason..." and mocked firing off a round.  "Pew..." he grinned, reholstering the weapon and shuffling back toward the curtain.