[The True MacGyver]

Mac faced the door and almost didn’t hear the faint grinding of a countdown. He turned around and saw a device the size of a toaster resting on his window sill, deceivingly innocent. He furrowed his brow in frustration and turned again to the door. He leapt to his feet, half sprinting, half stumbling. Without any regard for the structural integrity of his finely crafted threshold, he barred his head with his forearms and tossed his weight into the impact. The molding on the door splintered into millions of pieces as he barreled through the remains. A twang sounded as he saw his silhouette manifest on the door across the hall. Orange explosions surrounded it. Mac felt the force of the blast and flew end-over-end into the door across the hall. The flames died down and he collapsed on his back, lying on the remnants of a coffee table. His eyes squinted in utter pain. He vaguely made out an old woman, clad in a bright pink bathrobe, staring in puzzlement down at his battered body. He smiled weakly and turned his head up, revealing his blackened home across the hall. A small blaze of bright pyres danced around his humble abode. Mac looked back at the rippled, white ceiling and tried to get up. He could feel the agony fight his every movement as he collapsed. A black fog clouded his vision and the last thing he heard was the shrill cry of the startled onlooker.

Please Comment. Here is a new idea. Rate this segment on a scale from 1-5, 1 being absolute garbage, and 5 being simply amazing. I'll try to include comments and any thoughts in future installments.

[MacGyver's_Baby]

5 really good detail and I like the storyline so far so good job!

[The True MacGyver]

Thanks for the feedback!

[ghostdoll]

Suggestion:

Mac faced the door and almost didn’t hear the faint grinding of a countdown. He turned around and saw a device the size of a toaster resting on his window sill, deceivingly innocent. He furrowed his brow in frustration and turned again to the door.

He leapt to his feet, half sprinting, half stumbling. Without any regard for the structural integrity of his finely crafted threshold, he barred his head with his forearms and tossed his weight into the impact. The molding on the door splintered into millions of pieces as he barreled through the remains.

A twang sounded as he saw his silhouette manifest on the door across the hall. Orange explosions surrounded it. Mac felt the force of the blast and flew end-over-end into the door across the hall. The flames died down and he collapsed on his back, lying on the remnants of a coffee table.

His eyes squinted in utter pain. He vaguely made out an old woman, clad in a bright pink bathrobe, staring in puzzlement down at his battered body. He smiled weakly and turned his head up, revealing his blackened home across the hall. A small blaze of bright pyres danced around his humble abode.

Mac looked back at the rippled, white ceiling and tried to get up. He could feel the agony fight his every moves as he collapsed. A black fog clouded his vision and the last thing he heard was the shrill cry of the startled onlooker.

~~~~~
I like it very much.
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