Mon shouldn’t have cursed the moment the red laser pointed to his heart.

Mon also shouldn’t have made it very clear that he was the target by batting at the laser on his chest like a cat-gorilla.

Mon _also _shouldn’t have ducked behind the nearest body, which happened to be a fair looking lady in two inch high heels, immediately after.

Bam!

Mon wanted to cover his ears at the loud shot, like a bomb erupting in the middle of the crowded street.

The place seemed to radiate heat, everyone flashing and flailing like a tsunami, screams bursted as everyone pushed and shoved to get away from the bullet. Unfortunately for Mon, that included the two-inch high heeled lady.

Mom was left hunched on the ground, vulnerable and far too close to the bullet lodged into the concrete.

The red laser danced the cracked sidewalk and Mon scurried up, rushing with the crowd.

Blend in.

Blend in.

Blend in.

Nope!

He leaped out of the way just in time as another bullet struck.

“Far too close for comfort.” Mon muttered under his breath, scanning the rows of windows and windows.

The assassin had to be perched somewhere.

Bam!

God, why were buildings in this city so tall?

“There!” Mon yelled, the noise covering up his discovery.

At least ten floors up, third window out of twelve sat a figure dressed in all black. His mask of pointed like a bird and gun aimed… directly to Mon’s chest.

The streets were clear now, oh how quick did the people of Pollen flee at the sound of danger. Mon wasn’t sure if he should be glad civilians weren’t in harm or scared because now he was a target on a range. He could almost see red and white circles on his chest as the laser aligned. He twisted to the side as it shot.

He had to pull out the hard hat, didn’t he?

Mon barely had enough time to sigh as he dug through his backpack, which was only occupied by one thing, a thick, yellow hard hat.

He placed it on his head and almost like magic his day clothes faded. His jacked melted into dust and his T-shirt was replaced by a thin sheet of metal covered by matching yellow fabric. A green logo was pressed against his chest.

Mom looked utterly ridiculous, and he knew that, but apparently people love a good hero, no matter what bright, stupid outfit they were wearing.

He looked like a banana that wasn’t quite ripe.

Mom stomped his foot and the asphalt erupted like a volcano.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be charged.

He stepped on the platform which carried him up towards the tenth floor window like an elevator.

Shots fired beside him, but he could find a reason to care anymore.

“Stop that.” Mon told the sniper, grabbing the front of his gun and pulling it away from him. He felt like he was taking a toy from a toddler. That was probably because the suit increased his height by a foot, which was the only benefit it supplied when it came to looks:

The sniper fell back through the window, debating whether to fight the banana man or run.

“Yeah, you better run.” Mon said, watching the figure run down the stairs.

That’ll do it.

Bam!

Oh, of course.

Another one.