It was taking everything he had to hold onto Pierrot . . . and he was growing heavier by the second.
The Parisian chieftain was dangling head-down over the edge of the fourth floor railing. The blood was rushing to his head as quickly as the light wind which tickled the sweat running of him in minor rivulets. He had misjudged this one badly!
"So you were going to blow up my car using an alarm . . . well, I have a nice surprise for you!", grunted the muscular man up above. "Sort of a pleasurable irony for me and a very bad one for you!"
"NO, I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU ASK!!!", screamed Pierrot, realizing his time might be running out very rapidly.
"Sorry, we're past that!"
The alarm at his feet rang shrilly as it had reached THE TIME, as he let loose his grip.