Running through a hail of Nazi bullets to the barn, climbing up crates of spuds and you and Carl arming yourselves with soil-pocked grenades and GO! Through the red-lit pig room past hot pockets of soft grunting P.O.W’s and GO! Out the back to lob bombs that crack and splatter on the corn silo missile base that BOOMS and GO! To the waste heap sticking sharp sticks into jelly glass eyes of dead runts that pop and ooze, now GO! To the dust-humming corn-hold to kick the fuck from flat maggoty rats and THERE, staggering drunk from a dose of blue bait, now GO! Brick it till its brain splits and GO! Pelt the Massey-Fergy Nazi tractor tank, BOOM, and THERE! Gaz and Glen them bummers from up the lane and GO! Lob fuck off spud grenades and DIE BUMMERS DIE! And they run, straight out the open gate into the lane when BOOM! Gaz’s uncle hits Glen head-on with his red car, Glen’s white plimsoll arcing up into the air, Glen twisting up after it, falling bent and wrong, shinbone sticking out through a mouth in his leg, and all you can do is stare at it.