Running. Just running. That's all I can do now. Shooting those cops was probably the biggest mistake of my life. I toss the gun to the left. It lands in a trash can. Score. Then the Houndoom is upon me. Its sharp teeth sink into my arm as I try to wrestle it off of me. Tears well up in my eyes as the wound suddenly begins to burn like crazy. The pigs then run up to us and point their guns at me. They order the Houndoom off. "Hands up, fucker!" one of them yells. I know I have no chance of escape now, so I turn onto my stomach and put my hands straight out. They pounce on me, one digging his knee painfully into my neck while another does the same to my back. The third places the cuffs on me and together they pull me to my feet. They shove me toward their car and force me inside. A crowd has gathered. I hadn't noticed where I was, but now that I wasn't running anymore, I could take a good look at where I was captured. Right across from my house. My wife stands on the sidewalk, crying, and I curse myself for it. Then I'm sped away to the local jail.