Today's OneWord: Cornered

The Hellhound was cornered. He had never thought it would end like this. No bullets in his handgun, no sharp blades to rip from his hip. He was facing down three women, all of them armed to the teeth, their smiles catching the light of the nearest street post and making their mean molars glitter like gold.

"Seems like I'm gonna have a barbecue tonight," crowed one of the ladies, wielding what turned out to be a blowtorch. A blowtorch, of all things.