[@Xandrya]

[i]When Donny was seized, something unexpected happened. The front of his pants went dark as piss spilled down his legs. He shuddered and then went stiff, his eyes wide like silver dollars and froth flowing out from between his lips. His hands came out of his pockets, empty, and began feebly clawing at his chest. 

If allowed to, he'd fall over like a log, one leg juddering. It made sense. The man spent his entire life preparing for everything, painstakingly contemplating every outcome to avoid his own death and kill others. How high was his blood pressure? What condition could such a man's heart be in, who had to live in such a way? No wonder he owned those inner peace DVDs and a bong pipe. He probably had a ton of medication in his bathroom cabinets. Something he hadn't expected at all had occured, and the result was humiliating. Some hardened killer, brought to such a poor state by a little peek-a-boo.

The froth turned red, his chest no longer heaving as breathing ceased, and his green eyes went unfocused and glassy. The sights they saw now, none could guess. The irony. The surprise.[/i]