Cautiously emerging from his hiding spot, the assassin takes a quick glimpse. There, out in the open, unguarded, unmindful and unaware of being watched, is his target. Determined to finish the mission, whatever the cost, the assassin readies his weapon and begins his final approach, stalking ever closer towards his target, risking being seen with every step. Then he stops. Raising his weapon, he aims and fires.
Squirt.
Having soaked me with his water gun, my young nephew runs off, giggling.
NOTE: After submitting this story to 81words, I began to have mixed feelings about it and later removed it from their site. I leave it here for posterity.
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