THE HIT

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Nick Savidge was thinking, he was thinking about the events that had occured. The events that had occured to terrible of which to think of. Nick savidge, the worlds deadliest noscoper had just missed his first kill. This wasnt just any hit no, this was a hit on the President of the United States of America. It was hard for Nick Savidge (the worlds deadliest hitman) to recall what had happened, as terrible as it was. But he had no time to think about it anymore, because he was on the run. Nick looked out of the black van he was riding in, the sky as dark as doll eyes and flashing bright lights of Washington D.C. He then took a quick look at the White House, the hole in the window where the bullet had gone through, shattered glass on the floor glittering in the light of flashing police cars and FBI agents surrounding the
area. Nick knew what the concequenses of missing that shot. He was well indeed on the run... 

Friendly Inn, that was the name of the hotel. Or at least he hoped it was a hotel. The instant he walked in he could smell mold and he even saw a rat run around the lobby. The lobby had four chairs around a small mahagony table, the four chairs desperately needed cleaning since they had stains all over them. "How may I help you?" Came a feminine voice from the front desk. "Uh... A room for one?" He then slowly went up to the front desk with a hunched back.  "Sure. Here's the keycard to room 235 and your checkout date will be in 2 days." She handed the keycard to him a little hesitantly. "Thank you."

As Nicked walked down the hallway he spotted room 235. Gotcha. He swiped his keycard and walked in. The first things his eyes made contact with was a bowl of half eaten-pertified food of some sort on a table. Gross.  The smell of smoke came from all over the room. Well, better make the best of this. He thought to himself. He plopped his stuff down on the floor, sniper and all, and laid himself on the crusty and grimmy bed. He slept.

The wailing of police sirens was what Nick woke up to. They found me!  He scurried for his M82A1 shuffleing the bed covers until he found it. He loaded a magizine with .50 caliber rounds, then shoved the mag into the gun. Time to rock. Nick ran with all his speed through the window of his hotel room, glass flying everywhere. As he was in the air he saw what the cops looked like, all the cops looked like Obama. Weird. But without that letting him loose his focus he 360noscoped all of them without hesitation. Once he made contact with the ground, landing with both feet, he realized no blood was loss, instead ciruits and wires were coming from the obama look-alikes heads. They're robots. Nick then realized the gravity of the sitiuation. R0bamas are after me!

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