The scene opened up in the back of a local gun shop just outside Toledo, Ohio. There was nothing special about this place, just another hillbilly place registered with the NRA. The same rednecks that you would find usually placing themselves around these parts were, of course, here at this gun shop, yet something stood out amongst the usual common setting here. There stood a man with long, greasy, black hair in the center of everything. His name was Tyler Evans.He stood in front of a target, holding the rifle steady aiming with intent for perfection in both the areas of precision and accuracy. The target looked to be like any other target you would normally see. There was the ten marker, then the twenty, the thirty, forty, and then the fifty, then the bullseye, alternating from red to white, beginning with the red ten marker, and ending with the white bullseye marker. Yet something was different here, as was plainly visible. The bullseye was covered with a picture of 'Bulletproof' Cameron Tymes, adorned with the cocky smirk he usually carried around. That trademark smile broke across Tyler Evans' face. The hand crawled slowly toward the trigger. A click, and a blast. The bullet spiraled in Tymes' mouth on the picture, ripping it from top to bottom, forming a gigantic hole.
The men standing beside and around Evans applauded, roaring in approvement at the brilliant shot he had just fired. He began to speak to the loyal fans around him. 'My loyal, home-state fans, listen to me, and listen good. One of my opponent's this week is Cameron Tymes.' The hometown fans jeered at the name, booing it unmercifully. Evans put up his hand to silence the crowd and went on confidently. 'It's okay, it's okay,' he reassured them. 'Cameron's mouth must be shut, and I will be the one to do it, not just for myself, 'The Invincible One,' but really, for all of you.' The crowd cheered even more, giving up 'Oooioooooohhhhooooowhooooooo!'s', slapping their mouths with Indian noises, cheering in glee. He smiled at them and steadied his rifle while they were still cheering, beginning to aim yet again at the target.
'Shush up guys,' the owner of the gun shop shot at the roaring fans. 'Ty's gonna attempt another shot.'
'And I'm damn sure going to make it, Joe,' Evans said, smiling at the owner of the shop. 'Just you watch.'
Again, the hand crawled towards the trigger of the steadied rifle, and as the trigger clicked, the bullet sprang from the position inside the gun smack between the eyes of the Tymes picture. Again, the crowd erupted. Evans brushed off his hands like it was nothing, and this time, he set the gun down against the wall and put the safety on. 'Now now,' he spoke, placing his hands up in an orderly, dictator-like manner, signaling the crowd to hold their speech, 'calm down.' He jumped up against the wall, so that he sat just above the crowd. 'I want Cameron, also, to open his eyes; open his eyes to the facts. He needs to see that I am the greater rookie than he. I am the SUPREME talent that the business has to offer, not him. I'll show him why soon enough.'
Evans gave a wide smile and picked up the rifle. The crowd knew what he was prepared to do, and so they silenced themselves. He turned off the safety, and steadied himself, preparing for what was to be the third and final shot. The hand moved towards the trigger, as it had done previously, and the trigger clicked. The bullet exited the gun and spiraled into the chest of the picture. He smiled and raised his hands as he turned the safety back on and set down the rifle. 'Thank you! Thank you!' He then turned away from the crowd and put on a show all his own, and a show all to himself.
'Tymes,' he asked, 'why do you call yourself 'bulletproof?' Are you supposed to be shielded by the fire erupting from the rifle?' Evans laughed sharply. 'That's funny,' he said angrily, 'but what's funnier is that now, your bulletproof name or ability cannot save you now.' Evans' face swept forward, his eyes narrowed. 'I'm a cannon, Tymes, not just a gun, and not just a bullet. So for you, when the cannon comes at you, and you see the light flash before your eyes, it's...LIGHTS OUT!'
Chess Games With the Mind: From Bullets to Cannons (2/4)