“Let’s let some air in here, shall we?” The banker asked, propping open the door to the street, oblivious to the chaos outside. He returned to the couple seated at his desk.

“Stella, Jim, just a few more papers and we can approve your mortgage,” The banker assured his clients. Turning to the husband, he said, “If you’ll just sign—”

At that moment the glass behind the couple exploded. The mortgage application was splattered with red and Jim slumped forward onto the desk with a thud. Stella let out a cutting shriek.

Unperturbed, the banker turned to Stella. He said, “I’ll also need you to co-sign—”

Another explosion and Stella joined her husband face first on the banker’s desk. The banker stared blankly down at the bloody mess on his desk, then up to where the window had been.

The Watchman was glaring at him from the street.

“I hate trigonometry!” The Watchman announced.