This was it. There would not be another chance. Perfect timing and surprise were the key elements to success, one false move and a second of delay would prove disastrous. The thick fog clung low to the ground, the dampness leaving a slick film upon his clothing as he wiped the drops dripping from his top hat and took careful aim as he heard the bolt to the door unlock with a sharp metallic clank. The gas street light down the alley provided a dim eerie glow, the shadows distorted by the distance and the dancing fog. The wooden door swung open and a sinister figure appeared in the opening, hesitant and methodical, he glanced up and down the alley and slowly stepped out unto the small deck, turning carefully to close the door behind him, never taking his dark eyes off the route to his carraige. Three narrow steps led down from the porch, another ten feet to his nervous team, pulling against their bridles as they sensed the moment, and he would be safe...he never made it. A bright flash of light and a snapping shutter and the evil 'hater' had been exposed for what he was. Paul Ryan sneaking out the back of Ford`s Theater, his derringer tucked neatly between the pages of a racist budget, leaving John Wilkes Booth to take the fall as the patsy as Abraham Lincoln lay mortally wounded...this, along with his pictures of Romney at the grassy knoll, would seal the deal...Harry Reid had brought home the bacon!