He was a Japanese Arab with a dark past. All he wanted was the simple life. They wouldn't let him have it. His name, Jerry Reed. They were considered dangerous by the bad men. They ordered his death. Instead, they killed his twin brother in a case of a stake in execution. Instead of making him dead, they just made him angry. What do you call a man who's the breaking point? What do you call a man who's fighting take place? And Middle East is bomb making. An expert, dangerous jumping stunt work, and a certified master of the Japanese mystic arts. What do you call that? A man who is stealthy, dangerous, and yet also sensitive. What do you call a man with an appetite for other men? Shup, fuck, come here. Fuck you. Oh, come here. A man who satisfies that appetite whenever he fancy. And when he's done, he leaves no trace. What do you call when you combine the wily cunning of an Arab-roly-poly champion with the precision and sensitivity of the samurai warrior? What do you call that lethal cocktail of destruction? You call it. Auer-Sangra. Now, using only his skills and fighting, bombs, and roly-poly, Reed is on the run against time to find answers. They killed his twin brother. They should have killed him. Why might he die? He can't die. I'm his father. I trained him in all of weaponry skills he has. I'm responsible for all of his skills. I've trained him for two, maybe three years. And he has many other skills that I gave him like throwing things and jumping off things. All of these things I've taught him. He's untiable. He's a lead deflected. Ah. Hello, Jerry. Remember me? I killed your brother. What are you doing, a roly-poly? I did it for you, twin brother. It's over. You made all that motherfucker shut the fuck up and everything going to be okay. Enough of I had to kill you. Like, singleomics a scam. I've got the wrong idea. All right, hope that solve problems and solve it. All right. you