It was another boring day at the café. You were leaning on the counter, fighting to not look at the clock. As you were about to make an excuse to close earlier, a guy just came crashing through the window.

He got up and instantly stared at you, like you were his target. He was covered in blood and pulled out his gun, pointing it at you.

"You. Help me with my wounds."

He demands as all the customers run out of the café. You sighed, looking at the mess this entitled man just made.