As Jeff hugged the ground, he wondered why the machine gun had stopped firing. Then, in the distance, he could hear Bruce yelling to Wendy to hurry up with another magazine. Jeff's life swam before him: respected Manager of the Counselling Centre, the accusation, the arrest, the trial, the sentence and the escape attempt that now looked so futile.
He never realised that he was discriminating against left-handed staff by putting the mouse on the right hand side of the keyboard. Or by using words like "right" when he meant "correct" but Bruce had unmasked his criminal lack of diversity. At least he'd never used "cack-handed" or described anyone as "sinister". His lawyer had done his best, even pointing out to the court that Bruce was ambidextrous.
Tat-tat-tat-tat! It was getting too close. He'd better make a run for it. He only got a few yards before something hit him and he felt himself falling. He reached out to save himself and found he was holding a phone. He rubbed his eyes and saw vaguely familiar notices. The phone was ringing. Shaking, he answered it, "Counselling Centre, can you help me?"
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