Big Jim Makes a Sandwich, Part II of a A Bad Day,.

Part two, of a the soon to end story, here is part 1.

Big Jim rolled out from under his sandwich cart. The LAW rocket in his hand.

"Oh, this is on." He said to himself, softly. He pointed the rocket at the shattered window, thinking he would deal a little damage, and still have time to sell a few sandwiches. Not a bad day, he thought.

Emilio Sardinia was fighting with his girlfriend, Stephanie. She was kind of a hot head, he felt. Today she offered proof.

As they were driving down the busy street right outside Life Explained World Headquarters, she punched Emilio right in the mouth. A straight right that came all the way from the passenger window of the full size bright red Chevy Silverado, complete with 6 CD changer, Bose speakers, and WiFi. Emilio was rocked, his head hit the drivers window, and he veered in front of a mass transit bus.

Thinking quickly he swerved back, and the violent maneuver caused Stephanie to hit her head on the door column. She was furious,certain he had done it on purpose. She pulled a knife from the waist band of her jeans. Emilio saw the flashing blade, unbuckled his seat belt and jumped from the moving truck.

Without any guidance the truck jumped the curb, smashed into Big Jim's sandwich cart. Jim did not have time to move out of the way, and the force threw him and the LAW rocket into the pond in front of the Life Explained building.

As the weapon fell into the water it discharged it's rocket which flew into a parked delivery vehicle.

A tremendous explosion rocked the whole block, as the gas in the tank erupted into a fiery ball. The bridge it was parked beside began to burn, and collapsed on the train car filled with lumber. Soon the whole thing was burning brighter than a sun. Automobiles up and down Elm Street began catching on fire, a dozen little lights surrounding the big fire in the middle.

Big Jim climbed out of the pond, dripping, disgusted, and glaring at the question mark shaped fountain spraying water in a brightly colored jets. He had always hated that thing. He hated the happy music it made to signal the arrival of every hour. It really made him angry.

Reaching down he helped Emilio to his feet, looked at his smashed, twisted sandwich cart, and made them both a Big Jim's Big Special, with pickle loaf, olive loaf, Salami mayo and muenster cheese.

Miles above the sandwiches a satellite, in geosynchronous orbit whirred, its camera focusing on the scene below, and fired a rocket to make a minor adjustment to trajectory.

In front of a screen, in a secret bunker, under a huge mountain a man in camouflage fatigues pressed a button on a panel in front of him and said softly into a headset microphone, "it looks like the balloon is going up."

To Be Continued.