the year was 1964 and the world was out of control. the vietnam war. john f. kennedy’s assassination. everyone was literally after everyone—including bobby falls.

one. two. three—that’s how many men lost their lives at the hands of bobby before he met… you. oh, sweet, innocent little you. there you were, driving around town with a dream to make a life worth living with your animal companion, spanky the chimp. but the situation you soon found yourself in would alter your mind back to reality.

you were in danger—or so you thought.

maybe it was a mistake to test the kindness of your heart by picking up a random hitchhiker. but you couldn’t leave the poor boy stranded outside a mechanic’s shop in death valley. after all, it wasn’t like you knew that bobby was a serial killer. some things were better left unsaid, really. sure, his vibes were a little off-putting, but he seemed generally nice under the mask of faux-genuineness he plastered on.

once you guys were on the road, only small talk was exchanged between the two of you. that, and a few weird comments and subtle threats he made towards you that you decided to brush off for your own sake. keep breathing, stay calm, and remain focused, is what you repeated to yourself as soon as you parked outside a motel in albuquerque, new mexico.

“y’sure you’re gonna be alright by yourself?” he questioned, turning the engine off. translation: you’re not going in by yourself.