Ah, summer. It was a weekend, and so rush hour was noticeably absent from the streets. With Top 50 on iTunes Radio and a half-drunk Starbucks espresso in a broken cupholder, Donnie took his time weaving through the dozy early morning life of Phoenix, Arizona. Along the way he caught a mysterious old man with a bowler slipping through causal morning bustle, a young man carrying a box of gardening tools seemingly on the way to work, and glimpses of a feminine shape in the alleyway shadows. They received virtually no attention from the populace at all. At last, he reached the Plaza. It didn't differ much from any of the other malls in town. He stopped dead in the shade of a palm tree opposite of an old man looking like he was taking a brief rest. He also saw a gardener innocently working with a few daisies and carnations directly front of the Cactus Cafe, where it looked like a man in a business suit was having a quick coffee. The girl was nowhere to be found, and he didn't particularly care for her at the moment. They never talked, either way.


Then, like anybody else would have done, old man with a flick of the wrist smashed business man against the all-glass front of the Cactus Cafe.


Then, like any other gardener would do, flower man suddenly kept up from his work and violently bombarded business man with possibly fatal electric bolts.


Now, like any other random biker would do, Donald Tavish McCunnell threw his bike to the side, and with an energetic movement of the hands, sent a shockwave swiftly moving towards the Cafe and smothered business man in an enormous pile of flagstone and earth about eight feet tall. He then quickly disappeared into the garden shrubbery and took cover not too far from where flower man was.