A Big Bash

A Big Bash (246w)

“Enough’s enough,” said Detective Rainy, reaching for his gun. “We have to put a stop to this.”

“But, detective,” said a moustachioed officer. “There are too many of them. We’re outnumbered.”

“Codswallop!” said Rainy, ducking just in time to avoid a burst of bullets, which ricocheted off the wall above his head in a puff of brick dust. “They’ve got women and children at gunpoint in there.” He leapt forward. “Cover me! Quickly, while they’re reloading.”

Gun in hand, covering fire overhead, Detective Rainy charged towards the gunmen as they retreated into the bank.

Yelling heroically, he burst through the entrance into the bank, only to find the doors slamming shut behind him, and seven masked criminals pointing their rather big guns at him, in a way that said “Hah, gotcha.”

“Oh, bum,” said Rainy.

“On your knees,” croaked the biggest criminal, pushing the cold barrel of his gun into the back of Rainy’s neck.

“Please, no,” cried Rainy. “I’ve got so much left to live for!”

“You’ve got three seconds left to live for, punk. Three. Two. One.”

“SURPRISE!”

A cacophony of party poppers and cheering rang out as Rainy’s heart almost burst from his chest. He turned to see the criminals whipping off their masks, revealing the ecstatic faces of his colleagues underneath.

“You guys,” said Rainy. “You almost killed me.” He lay back, onto the polished marble floor, to the sound of many happy birthdays. He was getting too old for all this.