It was a hot day in an obscure city of Mexico. The sun light pierced through an open window and onto a wizened beard.
Linton Robinson stirred in his sleep. He didn't dream, because all of his dreams had been made into reality.
He sat up and looked around his surroundings, as male lions do. What he saw was a floor littered with, what had been, forty young virgins. All within legal age of course. These women had been offered to him as tribute, but they would have bedded him willingly either way.
Linton woke up like this almost everyday. He slid his legs out of the covers and pressed his feet on the smooth wooden panels. He dressed, whispered sweet nothings to all the women, and went out the door.
The sun was bright and harsh, but Linton only felt the temperature that he wanted to feel. Today he had planned to do some extreme cliff diving. It was part of his daily routine. After he would traverse underwater caverns, without wearing an oxygen tank. Real men never used oxygen tanks. A real man relied on his lungs solely. His lungs were the equivalent of the natives of Peru, who lived at high altitudes and had double the lung capacity of regular humans.
Linton was halfway down the street, when he heard a car wheel around a corner. The car sped towards him and he could see the men were an unsavory sort, with an intention to kill. Fortunately nothing could harm Linton and he quickly pulled out a golden Desert Eagle. He aimed at the vehicle, gripped the handle, and pulled the trigger. All he needed was one bullet. The gun didn't recoil, because no gun ever recoiled for Linton, and the bullet pierced through the metal frame of the vehicle. The car exploded into a heap and the remains of the men splattered onto nearby adobe walls. All the guts and blood formed two letters LR.
