His status as an assassin seen, he hadn't done in the one he'd hunted. A sound not shushed had ended that. Hounded in an instant, he had hidden in haste unto the sun. The tots that dashed on one side had no hint to his heinous sins, no insanities as seen in the dated. He'd eaten at a distant instant and needed satiation, and eats to stash. As the assassination hadn't ended in a death, he had not the assets he needed to eat. He said to no-one, "I intend a heist! I hate handouts; I hit on no man for eats." And thus he set out on the sunniest noon. Desensitised to death and sin, he heeded not the hideousness that is to heist an honest one's assets. He donned his hood and headed to the handiest house. He audited the site and sensed that one dude sat inside. He shouted so that the dude stood and hastened out, then he insisted into the unshut house, to the dude's hotheaded dissent. He shut the house and dented the dude's head. Need stunted his intuition and attention as he set into the ostentatious house, and he did not sense the dude's hidden son. The son hit the assassin on the head as he ate; he headed, stunned and astonished, into the dust. "I did not see a dude in addition," he said inside his head. The heat soon attained the house. "This is the assassin," said one that had seen as he'd hastened distant. One said that the nuthouse suited him, but his assistants said that he needed death. "It is not this one's to set the assassin's end," said he, "instead it is to the Shah." And so the assassin headed unenthused to the Shah's tent.