His wrists bound tightly behind the chair, he struggled helplessly to free himself from the ropes. (“Hey, dude.”) He knew his time was running out and that Guerro’s men (“C’mon man, I know you hear me.”) would be back any minute.

Pushing against the floor with all his might, (“Seriously?”) he knocked himself and the chair onto the ground. (“Can’t you just put me on a beach with a couple hot chicks?”) Before he could reach the knife in his back pocket, he felt a swift tug on the chair (“What the hell?”) as he went flying across the room. He turned his head to see that he was being pulled along by a truck driven by a woman who looked oddly like Jessica Alba. (“Dude. Seriously, what the hell?”)

Eventually he stopped moving, and found himself lying in the sand on a deserted beach. Jessica Alba and Angelina Jolie stepped out of the truck and moved towards him (“Sweet!”). His growing smile stopped dead when Angelina drew her gun on him.

“Where is Guerro’s money Steve?” She asked. (“God damn it.”)