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He received a tip that a man of great importance would be passing by his part of the city some time today. This man in question has done very naughty things and deserves punishment. And he knows how to punish him. He mapped out the important man’s route of travel, for the right spot where he can sit and wait to…get him.
“It’s been a long time coming,” the man monologued to himself as he sat and waited, “I can wait all day. He cannot escape me—not this time!”
The waiting finally paid off. A very important-looking limo came to a complete stop outside a skyscraper. And there he was, the President—arguably the worst one to date, surrounded by a sea of heavy-armed security guards.
“Ha ha, my lucky day!”
He waited and waited to the guards to foolishly leave an opening.
At last, a clear shot.
“I’M CRUSHING YOUR HEAD! I’M CRUSHING YOUR HEAD! I’M CRUSHING YOUR HEAD! POOF! You’re a FLATHEAD!” he said with pure, menacing, glee.
The man had the President unobstructed between the two fingers he held to his head. The President himself was none the wiser. He deserved to have his head crushed. He was that bad.
And just like that, the fun was over. The President stepped into his building, followed by his bodyguards, all out of crushing range. Our man was nevertheless very pleased with himself.
“That showed him!” he said, and went on his way, his job done.