Well, it looks like the foolish hitmen that tried to take me out are going to get away with this one. Those rascals normally would have made the biggest, and final, mistake of their lives trying to take out me, a retired merchant of death with 200 confirmed assassinations and a really cool and convoluted backstory, but their going to get away scot-free.
See, I left this violent world behind years ago, vowing to never go back. Why’d I do it? Love, but that’s a different story for another time. What’s important is that when I retired, I did what all great killers do and buried all my guns (and a few knives) under my basement before covering them with cement. This was a huge decision too, because some of my guns are really really cool, with like skulls engraved on them.
So, after these vaguely European (are they Slavic? It’s not important) henchmen rocket-launched my house, I went straight to the basement to get out my encyclopedia of slaughter, only to realize the dangdest thing. I buried the damn sledgehammer in there too. I have no way to crack the cement and get my guns out. It’s actually kind of funny. I’d share a laugh about the whole thing if the explosion hadn’t instantly evaporated my wife and six children.
Good one guys, you win this round you goofballs!