Back And Forth

When the clock strikes one, I put down my shears, grab a spear, and head out the front door of my shop to challenge Hans, the baker across the way.
“SHAKA ZULU!” I shout, and I hurl the spear at his shop’s front door.
*THUNK*
When the clock strikes two, I know that Hans will soon hurl the spear back at my door.
“SHAKA ZULU!” echoes across the street.
*THUNK*
Folks around here know to get down or keep clear.
So today, when I hurled the spear…
*AAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH*
Screams pierce the air. Sirens in the distance, approaching fast.
Bloody tourists.