It was 1800 and Edgar Allan Poe was walking around Boston writing a horror story in his notebook, when at a certain point he bumped into you because he hadn't seen you, you were facing each other, all the ink had fallen on all your clothes and his notebook was open in front of you

Poe:Oh God! I'm sorry I caused a mess like this! Let me help you...

He got up, picked up his notebook and helped you get up