It’s a brutal match. Rufus knocks out one of your teeth. You elbow check him in the throat, then judo flip him into the hardwood, just like preschoolers frequently do when playing Mr. Bucket. But Rufus’ incredible skill and stamina at this lame-ass game cannot be denied.

Triumphantly, he raises Mr. Bucket for all to see. The crowd vigorously golf claps for him! With a hand motion, Rufus’ muscular goons grab your arms and lift you into the air.

“I thought you would be more of a challenge,” Rufus goads, blood dribbling from his mouth. “Oh, that’s just some jam. Bird’s blood jam… very British… uh, time to blow up the world!”

He takes out a sophisticated remote detonator from his jacket pocket and pushes a big red button. Outside the casino windows, you can see explosions flashing in the distance. Not good.

The goons are awed by the bright lights, as goons often are. You take the opportunity to kick them in their shins, run up on Rufus and swipe the detonator from his hands. Now all you need to do is hit some kind of “reverse time” button. Omicron will know what to do.

THE END