I’m in the lounge of my house. There’s a man wearing a grey tin helmet lying face down on the carpet. The helmet falls off to reveals a mass of pink flesh beneath. It obviously didn’t do him any good. There’s a grenade lying next him. I’ve got no idea whether this was on his person or whether it’s already detonated but it’s not a good idea to hang about and find out. I head for the door and close it after me. I consider looking for cover, but before I can do so I hear an almighty bang. I wait for the sound to settle so that I’m sure that nothing else is happening, then I venture back inside. Amazingly, apart from some smoke, the room is intact. You’d think that there’d be some broken furniture or some scorch marks on the walls, but it’s all crystal clean. I open a window to let the smoke out and a grenade sails in.
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