*He blinked, then looked around for his rifle as the cheerleader slapped his arm.* No time for that guy! MY RIFLE IS DIRTY! *He looked stricken with grief at the fine coat of dust that had now settled onto his weapon. He looked at the hole in the wall as a 5 legged flea moved into view.* Aw, crud... *The flea leaped through the air, but ended up spinning around and smacking Jack right in the face with it's hard outer shell. He grabbed it and threw it wildly. It seemed it was headed for the cheerleader...*