I have insulted a gangster. We are in a western-style saloon bar and the gangster is standing on a balcony on the left side wall. I run and hide behind the bar, anticipating an attack. The bar doesn’t reach all the way to the ground; there is a gap of half a metre or so. Realising my vulnerability I raise my body in a push-up position to prevent him shooting me under the gap. I hear gun shots and bullets whacking into the counter. He’s trying to shoot through the top of the bar so maybe the area behind the bar can be reached. I edge forward and peep around the bar. Before I can see the shooter, I hear a scream and a loud crash. The gangster has hurled himself across the room from high up and landed on the bar. He’s dead. The barman pushes the body off the bar and it lands on the floor on the other side of the partition. I look into the glassy eyes of the gunman.

I work for an agency. In the previous weeks we have been assassinating Mafioso in elaborate ritualized killings, incorporating dance and theatre. The liquidations take place in a hotel / school. During the previous assignment my partner and I shot a Godfather and his henchmen. My boss wants us to repeat the assassination. It is an odd performance, as it involves an upbeat Lindy Hop routine and the presentation of miniaturized patisserie and coffee. I have rehearsed the dance steps but I worry about serving the postage stamp size food with white-gloved hands while I am out of breath from dancing.

In the previous assassination, we bought the gangsters a piece of cake and my colleague sang an Ivor Novello song before I machine gunned the Don. Afterwards I wonder how on earth we got the gun into the room. As I am going to be duplicating the assassination, surely the bodyguards will search me when I enter the room? I say duplicating but that’s not strictly true. The food will be slightly different. I have to butter a tiny slice of bread. This will turn into a cup of red coffee with a swirl of cream in it. It’s not going to be easy.

I arrive at the building on the appointed day. I check my pistol is loaded as I go upstairs. There are students on the landing of the second floor and I proudly show my gun. My boss’s room is on the left. Dressed in a sombre grey suit and speaking in a Geordie accent, he tells me that a Grandmaster has broken out of prison. He will only go back on one condition – we have to fight him ‘man to man’. My boss’s nose is bulbous and red. He looks like the actor Karl Malden. “He got me with his elbow”, he says, miming an elbow strike to the face. I heard a loud “KEEAAAIIIII!!!!” and the sound of a body hitting the floor, coming from a nearby room. “But he’ll kill us!” I say, very worried now. “No, he won’t kill you”, says my boss.