Dynamite was enjoying a drink in the bar at the Paramount in Las Vegas. His drink of choice was a whiskey and coke with one of his cigars that had a nice woody note to it. During his peace, he began to think how he was going to celebrate the Fourth of July. Suddenly, his hotel manager Jesse came and tapped on Dynamite's shoulder.

"Sir, were you expecting a big crate to arrive?" Jesse asked.

"No, who sent it?" Dynamite asked.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders. "It just has a warning on the front of the crate, flammable," Jesse replied.

Dynamite pushed back his drink and snuffed out his cigar. He got up and Jesse led him to the mysterious shipment. Upon arriving to the loading dock, he grabbed the crow bar and opened the large, 5 foot high crate. Inside were a bunch of fireworks of various sizes, something Dynamite was not expecting. He spotted a packing slip inside and read it, noticing that it was supposed to be delivered to City Hall down the street.

"Move it out back by the pool," Dynamite said, "We are going to give the city a good show. They don't call me Dynamite for nothing."

After the box was moved and in place, Dynamite pulled out a rag and a bucket of gasoline. He dipped it in and pulled out his lighter, Jesse nearby.

"I'll light this, why don't you do the honors and toss it into the crate?" Dynamite told Jesse.

Jesse nodded with an anxious face. Dynamite lit the rag and quickly handed it to Jesse, who grabbed it and tossed it into the crate. The two men ran away and after a distance stopped to look.

Suddently the fireworks began to shoot out of the box, high into the sky. Nearby onlookers could see streaks of red, white and blue in the darkening Los Angeles sky. Dynamite sure as hell loved to blow things up.