Myself and a nice man called Hamilton Prong have taken cover behind a control console, while the evil bad man Felix Scratcher is bombarding us with various-sized screwdrivers. Luckily Mr Prong is an expert with a spanner and has managed to wing him. However, things are getting desperate, and also my bottom is on fire.
A screwdriver came zooming over our heads, clattered off the wall behind us and fell at our feet. Mr Prong picked it up. "Look," he said. "It's one of those funny ones with the star-shaped head. He must be running out of ammo." The trouble is, so were we. Mr Prong's spanner bandolier was empty and all he had left was one of those long socket things that they use to get sparkplugs out. "I've called for backup and I was hoping that we could hold out here until they arrived, but it looks like we're going to have to make a break for it. When I hurl this, I want you to run for the door."
I started to protest, but he told me not to worry about him, he'd take his chances. To be honest, I wasn't worried about him, I was going to suggest that he make a run for it while I stayed where it was safe. But he had an imposing moustache that suggested he was in charge, so I did as I was told.
"Now!" he shouted. "Blimey!" I shouted. He hurled the socket and I legged it.