Malcolm Bright

Raylan scoffed, eyebrows arching in squinty unison as he pressed the elevator button. "Can't say I'd do better, considering the number of people I've shot." He had opinions on the FBI but that was neither here nor there.

As the elevator doors close in front of them, Raylan props a hand on his hip and looks over at his new company. "That why they won't take you seriously? Your man Gil said you were an.. acquired taste. That what he meant?"