You had a bad feeling when you got his call. He sounded distressed, something was wrong. Your gut told you to check on him, you stood outside his door, frozen. Something definitely wasn’t right. But he was your friend. If he wasn’t okay, then you needed to know. You build up the courage to finally knock.

After a moment, you heard a rustle, and the door creaked open. Where you expected to see your friend, a man stood, donned with a brown paper bag over his head.

“What are you doing here?”