After a head-start, Alfred kicked off the floor and opened his wings. Panting, he flew quickly to a building. He knew full well that he had pursuers behind him.

"Alfred you douchebag!" He muttered to himself, avoiding passing angels. "You are in so much trouble with Him!"

In from of him was a huge, solemn building. In front of its doors were two angels standing guard.

Alfred summoned his gun and swiftly flew in the direction of the guards.

P-TAT! P-TAT!

The guards grunted and fell, but they hardly touched the ground before Alfred threw himself against the doors.

Unfortunately, he miscalculated the strength of the door and he found himself opening the door, but falling flat onto the ground and skidding painfully to a halt.

Alfred slowly pushed himself up by his elbows, groaning in pain. He looked up and around the room.

Stacked against the walls and above him were racks upon racks of guns.

Pistols, machine guns, handguns, and shotguns.

Alfred heard yelling outside the room and he quickly got to his feet.

He grabbed the closest gun to him, which was a silvery-blue shotgun, and just then, the guard angels ran in.

"Hey you! Put that back!" One yelled. "You're not supposed to have that!" The two angels blocked the doorway and Alfred looked around desperately for an exit.

He looked up towards the glass ceiling. Sunlight shone brightly down on him.

Alfred looked back at the guards and smugly grinned, holding on to his prize tightly.

He lifted the shotgun up and pulled the trigger. The glass shattered and the angels lifted their arms and ducked.

Alfred jumped and spread his wings, taking to the air. He flew above the building and dived down through the clouds towards the earth.