Jimmy listened to the man's footsteps as they traversed the bar, crunching nosily on broken glass.

"COMEEEEEEEEEE OUT HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE," the man screamed, losing himself to another fit of laughter.

Jimmy closed his eyes. If he could stay quiet, maybe the man would go away, and he'd be okay. 

Then his radio crackled to life. It was Sierra - a cleaning maid he'd known since the Hippo's maiden voyage. He was immediately greatful that someone was still sane in this mess, and he didn't feel so alone anymore. Then his gut turned to liquid, as he realised the radio had done the fine job of giving away his position. 

He hadn't heard the man approach in all of his excitement, but he knew he was very close. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he almost felt the lunatic's eyes boring into the back of his skull. Jimmy looked up slowly, and saw the cut and bloodied wide eyed face of a young man staring back at him. 

"Hello," Jimmy said, trying to smile. "I'm not one of them. Please don't hurt me." 

The young man's grin widened to reveal teeth full of blood and possibly flesh. "Oh I wont hurt you," he said, snickering. "I'LL KILL YOU!" 

Jimmy moved just quick enough to avoid a stake knife going into his face, and rolled forwards. Standing up, he turned to see that his attacker had scaled the counter and was walking slowly towards him, slicing the air with his steak knife in a figure-of-eight motion. 

"Please man," Jimmy said, holding up his hands to show he was defenceless. "I haven't done anything. Why are you doing this?" 

"BECAUSE!" The man laughed. "BECAUSE IT FEELS LIKE HEAVEN!" He broke into another laughing fit, doubling over to catch his breath.

The door to the kitchen squeaked, and the crazy turned abruptly to see who had made the noise.

Jimmy grabbed a nearby mop. That's right. A mop. Not the two dozen cooking instruments stacked neatly on the nearby wall and counter, but a mop. He swung his plastic and woollen Excalibur at the young man as hard as he could, and felt the weapon snap instantly upon impact. The young man recoiled, his head forced to one side, but if it hurt he didn't show it.