I once killed a man. The details have always been a bit skewed, but I know for a fact, he was dead as a door nail. The man was late in his years, and I was young in mine. The man, Robert Greene, was one single sidestep away from being slaughtered. I tried warning him, but he was never quite listening - I swear he was deaf in both ears -. After a brief moment of my yelling to unhearing ears, he sadly stood struggling for survival. The man had just walked into the worlds largest stop sign. The poor man died of humiliation as onlookers laughed at his clumsiness. I could have done more to save him, but instead I laughed as he died.

Every window has been shattered, flinging slivers of glass to the four corners of the earth. The sirens are blaring at an unbearable pitch as the emergency crews approach. By this point in time traffic has come to a standstill forcing the impatient drivers to become frustrated with what has occurred.

Horns reverberated as the already annoyed drivers lose every ounce of sanity left.

As the emergency relief finally arrives the scene has become an overwhelming vat of chaos. The crowd of onlookers begins to expand, slowly at first, and then at a more exponential rate.

The bodies that were hurled from the car are carefully covered as not to cause nightmares for those watching.

A series of unfortunate events occurred this wintry night, resulting in the abrupt death of the family who had been driving so precariously this cold, dark night.