Raymond Chandler

It was late, and I was writing. My latest story didn't seem to be going anywhere- as usual, my beginning was strong, but I'd petered out early. Just what was I going to have happen next?
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He pointed it directly at me, and I was too startled to do anything but stare at him- I couldn't turn around in my seat, I was afraid to move, all I could do was crane my head back with wide eyes. He looked at me with a scowl, the gun barrel like the eye of a cyclops, and opened his mouth to speak.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He pointed his gun at me, then spotted the first man and pointed the gun at him, then started to wave between the two of us, backing up to keep both of us covered. The first gunman kept his gun on me, but his attention on the intruder, as both men sized each other up. I swallowed as I waited to see what would happen next.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He barged in as if ready to break all hell loose, then stopped short and looked surprised at the two others already present. He didn't point his gun but rather held it upwards at the ready, eyes darting between possible targets. The first gunman who'd had me covered was now lowering his gun, sucking at his teeth as he considered the new situation. I breathed a sigh of relief and started to turn in my chair, moving to face the situation and ease the strain in my neck. "Well." said the first gunman. "I-"
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      All of us turned to look at him where he stood in the frame of my bedroom door, my bedroom very clearly behind him with no other entrances into it. He looked like he'd just come in out of the rain, his hair was slick with wetness and clung to his face, and he raised his gun and cocked the hammer.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He bumped into the third man, who blinked and moved aside with a small note of apology. The former nodded and shrugged and pushed past him to get into the room, then looked at the others, then peered back into the entrance hall as if checking for something. He shrugged, then raised his gun, pointing at the second gunman, who pointed back, looking thankful. The first looked at his gun, scratching his head, as if unsure what to do with it now. The man in the bedroom doorway cocked the hammer of his gun.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He burst up through the basement trapdoor, wood splintering, and then immediately grabbed his head with both hands, rubbing his gun against his head injury like a cold compact. The others looked down at him. There was a clicking sound as the man in the bedroom doorway cocked the hammer of his gun.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      The man who'd just came up through the trapdoor was shoved upwards out onto the floor, another man coming up beneath him, and the gun of the one before him went off. The shot rang through the house and everyone immediately raised or lowered their guns to point at him. Hammers were cocked in rapidity, one last clicking sound from the man in the bedroom doorway. Then there was suddenly a crashing sound from the kitchen, and everyone looked up at it, unmoving. I got up, looking at them with a "can I go check?" expression, and they shrugged at me, guns still pointed at the trapdoor men.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      I ignored him and went into the kitchen, where the dishwasher was shaking slightly. The door was straining, and I could hear the sound of breaking glass inside.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      It was the dishwasher door, which fell open with a slam and a burst of steam. He was tangled up in the racks pretty badly, his limbs looked splayed around unnaturally and he was laying across a lot of broken dishes, part of a glass stuck in his ear, some cutlery digging into his back. His gun was held limply in a hand that looked twisted out of position, and he weakly tried to aim it as I looked up at a similar sound coming from the pantry.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He fell out of the pantry in a heap, soup cans and a bag of orecchiette falling out with him. He landed on the floor hard, his gun going off and hitting the oven door.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He rolled out of the oven in a small somersault, bleeding from a bullet wound, already looking partially cooked in addition. I started to back away from the bodies slowly, heading back to the living room-
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      -shoving past him through the kitchen door while he waved his gun in complaint, to find the living room very crowded now. It was almost standing room only. There were a couple of dead bodies now, and the men in the bedroom door were cocking their hammers threateningly, and everyone else was looking at the bodies and looking at each other and appraising whether or not to say anything. "Who-" I said- Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      I shoved him back out and he fell into the entrance hall and shot an overhead light fixture with a bang and a crash.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      Tripping over the man in the hall he fell face first into the living room and shot another gunman in the ankle, who looked down at his injury with an expression of mild confusion, looked at his gun, and then shot the other man in the ankle as if trying to keep up. The men in the bedroom door cocked their hammers.
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      "Look," I said to the latest arrival, as if he were responsible. "I get the point, okay? Sometimes it's best if I just drop an idea if I don't have anywhere to go with it, or adapt it to help some other idea. I'm going to just take a break now, and maybe later I can figure out an ending for-"
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.
      He shot me. "Well thank god." I said, and as I slumped into my seat and felt unconsciousness start to come on, I watched the smoke from his gun barrel curl into odd patterns, and he mouthed words at me that I couldn't hear through a rushing sound in my ears. Where, I thought, did I go wrong? How did this all begin? I dimly heard the sound of a hammer being cocked. Everything began to go black-
      Just then, a man came in through the door with a gun in his hand.