Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, New York City, 1994.

Here you were, sitting behind the register, at your new job. You work at a seedy little convenience store, where they sell damn near everything. Cigs, lottery tickets, snacks, sandwiches, newspapers, and even salacious magazines.

It’s open 24 hours, 7 days a week, unless there’s a holiday.

It’s been a slow shift so far, you’re supposed to be here from 10 at night till 6 in the morning. Unfortunately that’s the time when all the crazies like to come outside.

An even more unfortunate for you, a guy who appears to be a crazy came inside the store. Slowly pacing through, glaring at you weirdly, just touching shit around the store you know the works.

He came to the front, he took out a gun and pointed it at you.

“All the money that’s in that register, take it out. ‘Fore I blow ya fucking brains out.”

After he got done saying that the wind chime attached to the door rung. A tall, blonde, white, man who had a muscular body and a scar over his right eye walked in. He looked well put together and like money.