I watched the numbers clock down on the bedside alarm clock.

Watching hopefully for a buck to come along behind the does, I eyed them through the scope of the borrowed .243. From time to time, I crosshaired the vital areas .

A meteor in the hazy air / Play’d before his path; / Before him now it roll’d / A globe of livid fire […] Anon to Thalaba it mov’d, / And wrapt him in its pale innocuous fire.

[T]he production values are excellent and there are no obvious signs of it having been a rush job.