Morrison crouched in the bushes as the headlights of a passing car flashed by. Shit, that was close he thought. Peering over the brambles, he saw it:
'THANK YOU FOR VISITING SKAGGERSTON. PLEASE COME AGAIN!'
I've done it! I've fucking bloody well done it! he screamed inwardly. Checking over his shoulder for any more traffic, he made a flit towards freedom.
The sniper had kept Morrison in his sights for the past five minutes, toying with him. Just as Morrison reached the town limits, he pulled the trigger. Morrison's head popped, his brains now residing messily on the road-sign.