The President’s head was bobbing in and out of the crosshairs, but there were still too many other people around him. Some of these people had short hair, the assassin noted idly, whilst others, often the women, wore it long. None of them were in wheelchairs, although there was no particularly reason that any of them should have been. His black leather gloves, which he had picked up just the other week in Ipswich for £19.99, a very reasonable price considering the quality, creaked ominously as his finger tensed on the trigger. The gunman shifted his foot a bit, then decided it had been more comfortable in the original position, then changed his mind again. Suddenly the target was momentarily isolated and he had a clear shot. He fired and the President’s skull exploded, completely ruining his suit. The assassin, who was incidentally extremely fond of biscuits, smiled in satisfaction.
Last edited by Rob Stuart; 04-07-2014 at 04:21 PM.
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