Mondays

The hair on Mechanic's skin stood on end as the air filled with ionized gases. The muzzle of the strange gun-like device he was holding glowed molten-red.

He took careful aim.

And fired.

Three successive plasma spheres raced towards their targets, churning up the air in their wake into vortices of electrical discharge, frying everything that got close to them. Including the three huddled shapes in the shadows just a few hundred meters in front of him.

"I love my job"