“I’ll catch up with you later!” you intone to your parents, and follow the old man through a gap in the curtains.
“What do you know about Johnny Franzetta?” you insist, and the old man turns to face you with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Let’s just say… I MURDERED him!” he cackles, and pulls out a rusty knife from his belt.
“But how could that be?” you plead. “Johnny Franzetta died nearly a hundred years ago!”
The old man nods. “I killed him in a secret, SATANIC ritual that has kept me alive this past century. And now you too will face the same fate!”
He stabs you, and your last thought is that you didn’t even get to experience food-poisoning from eating a badly-prepared Pluto Pup this year. What a gyp.
That’ll teach you to go off with strange old men, or at least it would if you weren’t dead.