‘What do you think?’ said a voice behind Inteachán.

‘These are the lyrics to my next album.’

 Inteachán turned round to see the Rock Star sitting in a wheelchair and wearing a neck brace.

‘I thought we would meet again,’ he continued, ‘especially considering the fact that you put me in this thing.‘

‘I had to stop you,’ said Inteachán. ‘I had no choice.’

‘You’re right,’ he smiled. ‘You had no choice.’ The Rock Star pulled an antique musket from a pocket inside his dressing gown.

‘Just like I have no choice but to shoot you now.’