I step in silently, and as is the ritual, I
block the door with my bicycle and set the
traps on the windows. Damn no way that
anyone is getting in here without adequate
warning. I figure that there is time now to
take a good look at this knife that has
caused me so much grief and to miss the movie
that I was heading for but can't remember the
name of.

Its not unusual, plastic about the length of
my forefingers. It has two blades that open
in both directions, one is a short and the
other long. The long one is pretty dull, and
the short one is quite sharp. Enough about
the knife.

The door opens up, and the bicycle falls
over. One of these suited guys is standing
in the doorway, impassive and immobile. I'm
not scared until I see that the hallway
behind him is filled with his clones. I turn
over the hangle of the knife, and give it a
bit of a nasty grin...