I strolled down the sidewalk, not a care in the world.
I passed a street sign, it read, “Drury Lane”
Chills ran down my back, this neighborhood was notoriously bad.
Suddenly, my knees buckled, a piece of cold metal was pressed against the back of my head.
“Don’t hurt me!” I cried, putting my hands up in the air, “Please, I’ll give you my money! I’m a doctor, I save lives. I need to live.”
“Shut up!” came the reply, “Just…just shut up. I’m going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer or you are going to die.”
“Okay, okay man. Just calm do-”
The metal was pushed harder against my head.
“Do you know the muffin man?”
I spat out a chuckle, my attacker didn’t like that.
“Do I what?” I laughed.
“Don’t play dumb with me, punk bitch. Answer my question!!”
“Uh, okay. No, I do not know the Muffin Man. Why?”
“He did this to me!” my attacker lowered his weapon, I stood up and turned around.
Facing me now was a giant, veiny, limbed muffin.
He was sobbing, his eyes abnormally large.
He looked up.
“Help me.”