I had never thought I could see such a thing. Hadn’t meant to. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Me and Katey had just left the chippy each wielding a large and very salty bag of chips in one hand and a can of cider in the other. It was late, and I mean late. So late that the sky was starting to turn the red that comes close to morning.
To be honest, I wasn’t suitably dressed to be a witness, or even in a suitable state of mind. I was basically close to lampshaded. You know: drunk enough to do something stupid but still not drunk enough to forget it.

We had just reached our midnight munch bench when it happened. It was strange. Everything seemed to go cold as two men rushed in front of us, fully armored up, equipped with massive swords. It was an epic fight to the death, and as soon as the shorter guy died, the other one reached down and started fingering his pockets before running off.

No one beleived me. I didn’t expect them to. I had just seen knights from the 16th C. in 21st C. Croydon.