Chapter 3
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Just about everyone jumped. If puzzlement was a state of mind that could produce a sound, then an orgy of decibels would have flooded the hall and blanked out the notes.

Some people turned around, either cluelessly or aimlessly looking for the source of these blasted, repeated, sounds, but others actually noticed Bob. Bob would focus his attention on the latter, as soon enough all the others had zapped their puzzlement and were already getting on with their business. He took the didgeridoo off his lips and screamed at the top of his lungs: "LISTEN UP YOU PEOPLE, I'VE GOT A GUN".

What was intended as a warning quickly spread as a debatable rumour. "No no, he said he was about to make a pun" said a cocky blond with a bathing towel slung over his shoulder, before turning his intentionally charming gaze back towards the secretary at the main desk. "That ain't not a gun, that's a dimbgerischmoo" disagreed a young mom standing in the center of the hall, holding a 4-year old boy wrapped in an oversized kimono in her arms. Nearly simultaneously another man standing near Bob said "So what, I have a gun too", while his teenage girl, in a hurry to get home in time for the next episode of the Simpsons, tugged continuously at his shirt. Right away another voice said "Yeah, I've got a gun too.". "And my dad knows someone who has one" cracked a high-pitched voice. Soon enough a flurry of voices were arguing about the pertinence of Bob's message.

This wasn't the reaction that Bob was hoping for, but he had meticulously planned for it too.

"BIG DEAL, I'VE GOT ONE RIGHT HERE AND THE NEXT PERSON TO INTERRUPT ME WILL GET A TASTE OF IT" quickly barked Bob over the ambient chatter, as he put the didgeridoo down, and started tapping it slowly on the floor to get Winch to slide out of its hiding place. While Bob was tapping away, in what seemed to be a maneuver that he hadn't practiced much, people started walking away. "Come on Manfie, we ain't got no time for no crack head" complained the kimono mom, taking off. At the desk, the cocky blond carried on: "Which reminds me, do you know what I call a gorgeous secretary sitting at a desk?". The Bart & Homer fan was now getting impatient, "Dad can we go now, the Simpsons are gonna start", she begged, tugging and tugging. "Just give Dad a minute, ok Milly? I want to see what kind of gun that man has. I think he may have put it inside his didgeburrito" replied her dad. While the cocky blond, leaning on the desk even further forward, smiled and said: "A sacred cherry".

As Bob tapped harder and harder, most of those who had been listening to him were now walking away. Life in the main hall was quickly returning to its usual bustle and hustle of kids shrieking, dads croaking, and moms chirping. Only two people now stood fast near Bob, intent on seeing this through. André, the father of the Simpsons fan. And Amina, a basketball pretendee who also happened to be a toy gun freak, which could be construed as a rare hobby among teenage girls.

Getting Winch out turned out to be more of a problem than Bob had planned for. Winch was in all appearances stuck, almost defiantly so. Only the tip of its two barrels was now showing. André ushered Milly away: "Here's some change, why don't you take the bus home, and if Mom's there then tell her I'll be in a little later", and walked up to Bob to give him a hand. Amina had had the very same idea. André was the first to intervene: "Here I'll hold the nozzle, while you two pull at the top".

Bob was boiling with anger.

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