The Streets of NYC, Monday Evening
Andrew
Andrew looked up and down the street they were walking along. "John, maybe we should turn back. There's only one car on this street and it's missing all its doors."
He pulled away the blood soaked cloth he was holding against his forehead. It had stopped bleeding about an hour ago anyway.
John
"You didn't get that rag from the trashcan you tripped over, did you?" John asked, looking at the stripped car and avoiding talking about how incredibly lost he was.
Andrew
"What? No!" Andrew looked appalled.
"I got if from that nice bag lady with the shopping cart full of her life's possessions. The one who kept calling me Charles. She said it was her cleanest one."
He didn't ask why it smelled like cat pee. Stopping the bleeding seemed more important.
John
"That really doesn't look very sani-"
John's remark was cut short when a group of rather imposing looking gentlemen menacingly appeared before them, blocking their path.
"Hey guys," John said calmly, attempting to put himself between the thugs and Andrew.
Andrew
"Thank god," Andrew said, noticing the men. "Ask them how we get to Time Square," he whispered to John. "I want to see where we need to line up for those discount tickets in the morning."
He smiled and tried to move up next to John, but stopped upon hearing a click that sounded eerily like the cocking of a gun.
[NFI. NFB. ZOMG NOES!]