Goon #3, clad in a Colonial Police uniform stood motionless. The bravado he and his cohorts exhibited moments ago was gone. Now he was alone and scared. His buddies were down and he was caught between running and entering the room.

“Benny? You OK in there?” Seemed like a start.

“My fucking foot is gone, this guy’s an asshole.”

“Carlos?”

Nothing came back but moans from Benny.

“What about the target,” asked Goon #3. “Did I get him, Benny?”

I don’t fucking know! I’m bleeding out over here, I don’t see him. He could be down."

Bravely, he decided to enter the smoky room. Immediately to the right was Benny writhing around gripping his left shin. To the left was Carlos in a heap. #3 went to step over him to search the room for their target.

Unfortunately Pitcher was hidden under Carlos and poked a pistol up at #3’s groin as he was overhead. Paralyzing pain followed as the rounds destroyed his genitals. A quick spin put a bullet in Benny’s skull.

Room cleared. Pitcher reloaded and crawled out the door.