The man sat in his comfortable armchair with a glass of his favorite liquor in his left hand. His attempt at a smile was unsuccessful. Instead his face was contorted into a grotesque mask of hatred. It had taken years of meticulous preparation before finalizing his plan of vengeance. His highly intelligent brain had considered every conceivable contingency. It was perfect. Nothing could possibly go wrong. And now he had finally acquired all the tools necessary to begin. He gloated over the delicious thoughts of the many possible ways to torture before slowly killing the two men who caused this unquenchable fire within him. Their deaths would be tied to the annihilation of millions in the country he blamed for his past humiliationAmerica. He let loose a throaty gale of laughter. His body shuddered with the force of this emotion. Obviously, he was incapable of recognizing that his exceptional mind was on a razors edge between utter brilliance and insanity. For who in their right mind would massacre millions of innocent people no matter what the perceived provocation? His eyes bulged, and spittle dripped from his mouth as he attempted to widen his smug smile at the idea of finally killing his two foes. But this only increased the hideous facade of his face. H e raised his right hand and, with his forefinger, pressed an imaginary start button. Now youre mine! he screamed into the night.