Do you remember how the reveal of every episode of Scooby Doo went? The captured felon would state something along the lines of "I would've gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids."
I saw this middle aged couple having difficulty getting something in the backseat of their little sedan. I watched them struggle for several minutes. Pushing, jamming, pivoting.
I debated offering help. But I stayed away. I don't like to meddle.
But I was also raised better than that. My parents encouraged me to help whenever possible.
I approached them and asked how I could help. They smiled curtly and, between grunts of exasperation, said no.
I insisted. They defied my attempt more emphatically.
I decided to just move in and help. I maneuvered my way to the door of the car and immediately wished I hadn't.
In the backseat was a man. With a bleeding hole in his upper chest. His skin a sickening shade of storm cloud.
My eyes widened at the realization as I turned around to face them.
That's when the cudgel swung down and struck me square in...