The next thing he knew [if I remember correctly], the door opened, and a gun came in carrying a man.

It fired the man who slunk off muttering oaths like "I swear I'm never going to be employed by a gun again".

[My writing teacher said always remember to address the reader from time to time, like Jane Austen.]

Dear reader, I hope you're following all this and write back to me with any comments you have, especially as I feel my plot construction isn't all it should be. Before I send thisd off to you, perha[ps you'd be kind enoughto send me your address, so i know where to send this note. Ta.

The gun put itself down; well, when I say 'gun', I mean write 'gun' I mean, OF COURSE, a hired gun, aka as bloke who looks dodgy and carries a gun, for doing stuff like asking questions afterwards.

"Where's Jake?" he queried, doubtfully [c in a circle, Agatha Christie.]

"Who's Jake?" I mumbled,as i wasn't sure of my ground. And because of that flood earlier in the book where there was a flo....oops, not supposed to ruin your disbelief - sorry.

At that point, the gun was stuck (luckily for me) for his next line [luckily for me) ( damn, repetition's not good, is it?)

"I quite like repetition" said the gun [still actually a man, dear reader - hello - er, dear reader - oh - dear reader's buggered off. Well I think i may just slope o....ahhh

End of chapter - um - um - shptrfotnieigh-ty.