Kendall Evans was watching the sun set through his house’s front window, relaxing when he saw two black sedans race up his driveway and skid to a stop. Six men wearing black balaclavas poured out and ran for his front door, weapons drawn.
The team’s breacher was new and dropped his lock picks twice before the next man in line shoved him aside and picked open the door himself. By this time Kendall was ready and waiting for them with a baseball bat and his old 1911.
The man who had opened the door was the first in, and was bonked over the head and went out like a light. Kendall dropped the bat and drew his pistol, but the second man in shot him in the gut while the gun was still coming up.
Kendall had been shot before, and all things considered, this one wasn’t that bad. He continued raising his 1911 and shot the second man in twice in the chest, and he fell like a brick.
The young breacher was the third man in, but he stumbled on the threshold and fell on his face, dropping his gun. Kendall, now leaning on the wall for support, fired a wild shot and missed before the breacher tried to take the gun from him, but Kendall just fired the gun through his hand, and the bullet continued through the man’s heart.
The fourth man in shoots and misses as he stumbles on the pile of bodies. Kendall emptied his pistol on him, eventually hitting him in the chest and the head.
Kendall had no bullets left for the fifth man in, who just pistol whipped the centenarian out cold with one smack. The first man in regained consciousness and the three remaining men swept the house, catching Shane, who had somehow slept through the gunfire, completely by surprise.
Shane awoke to his door yeeting across the room and shouting men with guns.
“Where’s the fluffy!” One of them demanded.
“What?” Shane said, half asleep with confusion and adrenaline fogging his mind.
“WRONG ANSWER!” The man shouted as he shot Shane through his foot. “WHERE IS THE FLUFFY YOU STOLE!”
“The fluffy?” Shane parroted, barely starting to comprehend the situation as the pain from being shot flashed through his brain.
“YOU STOLE A FLUFFY! WHERE IS IT!”
“In the barn!” Shane cried as he fell into the fetal position. He wasn’t on the floor long as two strong arms pulled him to his feet.
“Lead the way” They ordered Shane, shoving a gun into his back. Shane, limping, led them through the house, across the yard, into the barn, and to his fluffy torture room. Where he found only the two bound smarties from earlier.
“Well where is it?” The man demanded, jamming his gun hard into Shane’s back.
Shane turned around to face them and pointed to the empty legboard where he had left Pistol. “He was right there last I saw him. He was in the leg board, he can’t have escaped, fluffies can’t get out of those.”
“Gonna be one of those days.” One of the masked men said before kneeing Shane in the balls. He had expected to have to fight to restrain Shane for more questioning, but Shane was out cold and on the floor faster than someone who had opened a door and needed to walk the dinosaur.
