If I hear a man claiming to be injured or a woman in danger, first I inspect them with my security camera and see what I'm dealing with, the caliber of man they are, and then I tell them to come in from the intercom and remotely unlock my door.

That's when they step on the bear trap. Now I come down in full tactical ghillie suit with my M4A1 and find they're missing. They sawed off their leg and tried to escape. But I planned this. I was the one who left the saw next to the bear trap.

I hunt the one-legged man by following the trail of blood. Like a wolf on the scent of prey, I sneak through the bushes and find them trying to tend to their wounds in my shed. And yet again, they fucked up. I'm the one who put the tourniquet out in the shed.

I pull out my detonator and as I prepare to trigger the claymores strategically placed around them, they scream out "If you ever want to see your children again, you'll listen!" I laugh. I tell them I don't have children. Those weren't my real children. Those were decoys. I press the detonator.