John grips the handle of the blade, and quickly pulls it out of his shoulder. “I believe this is yours,” John quips as he hands the blade back to the devastatingly gorgeous Lana McFalcor, “You’d figure a librarian would have better aim.” Lana indignantly pushes her horned rimmed glasses back into place before sliding the stiletto knife once again into its hidden sheath nestled in the heaving valley of her bosom. “Maybe I missed on purpose,” bluffs Lana. “Please. We both know you would have done anything to get your hands onto the Eye of Golan, the only thing that can lead you back to your father and my sworn enemy, the evil Dr. McFalcor,” says John as he pulls the fabled jewel out from his pocket. There is little light in the dark backroom of the grenade factory, but what little there is finds the gem and illuminates it with an unearthly glow. “Of course if you had just asked nicely I might have given it to you,” teases John before he starts coughing blood.
Lana rushes to his side, “Oh John, you’re hurt!” “I think you know how to make me feel better.” John passionately kisses Lana. Their torrid embrace knocks free her tight bun, causing her luxurious black hair to fall sensuously around her shoulders. John reaches up to remove Lana’s glasses and finally reveal the hot woman she really is when the sound of gun cocking stops his movements. “I think you will be leaving her glasses on Mr. Helldeath,” threatens a voice from the shadows, “In fact, I think we all might be leaving all our glasses on.”