“John!” Shouted Plaus. “The book!”

John finished his hero monologue and turned. To his horror, the book that the pair had been hunting for the past two years, was tightly secured between the arms of a man; his hip containing a little black box with a timer on it.

“We can negoti-“ and the man slapped the book on to the box, and the clock could be heard ticking its springs and twisting the fuse of packets of powder.

The man looked up and locked eyes. Ten seconds passed until finally he bellowed: “The CIA and KGB will never take me alive!” Before charing at them.

Plaus froze in terror, John simply held out his hand and let the man run into a brick wall, knocking him out. There was now only about five seconds left, and John, the hero and just, threw the man’s body up into the air like a firework. The crimson blood showering the skies like a firework.

“Anyway, that’ll be $50 bucks please.” John said to the crowd. There were cheers and beers being poured onto the streets. John smiled, until he felt something burning his nose, then something pecked him on the head; and that’s why this town you see now is called “Metal Hail” by the locals instead of Johnvsbookville.