Tuesday 11 October 2016

Ta-Da



I don’t know if he had a hatred for magicians in general or me specifically. Maybe I’d done something to him in the past. Whatever the reason, he’d run me off the road, beat me up, and was now pouring out a line of gasoline trailing to the car where he left me. Once he was ready, he went to light the piece of paper he’d found in my car, intent on dropping it into the pool of gasoline, I guess.

Apparently he wasn’t aware of flash paper’s existence, or that it could set off gasoline covered hands and clothing…

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