The train was speeding down the North Atlantic track. I was relaxing in my compartment near the caboose, just about to doze off, when my computer alerted me that I had received mail. The message said that a terrorist had broken out of prison and his accomplice was a pretty woman with long blonde hair who’s a master of explosives: There was reason to believe that both of them had boarded the train and were intent on causing mayhem. My mission was therefore to stop them.
So, with the aim of searching around, I went to leave my compartment; but, as soon as I opened the door, I was struck on the head. This caused me to collapse and black out.
I awoke to the sight of the terrorist standing before me. He informed me that he intended to blow the train to kingdom come. At his right stood the pretty woman with long blonde hair: she held up a bomb and explained that she had just finished the wiring and timing on the device. Pointing to its digital clock, she stressed that it was set for seven minutes: “That’s how much time you have,” she smiled, “before the train and everyone on it goes up in smoke.”
Now the terrorist and the pretty woman prepared to make their exit. They bound my hands together and tied me to a pole. Then they strapped the bomb to my chest and initiated the countdown. Throwing open the window of my compartment, they both leapt directly out of the speeding train, laughing at my cries for mercy. Then the bomb exploded.
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