He howled. He flung the grenades. Heaved

He howled. He flung the grenades. Heaved up to AK's under each arm. They bucked his arms like dogs fighting. He ran right into the halos of smoke, blood and gristle. He kicked

through the tent flap, cutting down the lanterns with a spray of bullets. The dirty rotten scabs never saw it coming. In 40 seconds he had them all cuffed & ready to stand trial

for their crimes. She stood among them, smug that this man of honor would turn them over to a judge she had owned since the early days. He returned after a moment with gas cans.

But the gas they contained was not gasoline. No, instead the gas was made up of a curious mixture of

hydrogen and peroxide. It came in brown bottles down at the MegaMart and they'd been using it in their RV for years. The backfires were horrendous but the savings really added up.

On the border to canada, a mounty (yes really, - he must have been bored playing bit parts in yogi bear toons) stopped them asked them where they were heading. Just then the RV bac

k fired. The mountie (still missing his days of voice-over) asked if they were carrying any fire-arms or other contraband. The dude rolled down the RV window, "What do you need?"

the wheel, spinning it violently to one side. The steering column jammed and my getaway vehicle skidded into a short school bus. "Nyeaarrmm!" I shouted. My kidnapper didn't see

I was going to get rid of him by smashing his head with my stale bread sandwich. I hit him and opened the door, jumped out and landed on soft ground