Zackary, The sargeant, was training the rookies, getting them ready for the real war. “Just throw the Molotov.” He grumbled for what seemed like the thousandth time. So, they reeled their hand back, and chucked it. Or, at-least they tried. Yet, as Zackary scanned the skies for your Molotov, he heard a familiar hissing sound beside him, and turned to see they had dropped it, and it was laying at their feet.