You were driving along the street, suddenly noticing a limping man struggling his way across the pavement. You wouldn’t have stopped for him if you didn’t realise that it was Elwood Dalton, the one the whole town was raving about as their beloved hero. It was dark out, yet you couldn’t leave him hanging. You slowed beside him, opening up the window. He looked rough, a cut bled from his lip and he had bruises underneath his eye. His shirt was torn, and covered in blood.