Ron was pissed off, as he stormed out of the house a few minutes ago.

Now, sitting in his new Bentley, and crawling at no more then five miles an hour toward Manhattan, he had time to reflect back on this horrible morning.


It all started with the argument he had early this morning with his wife Jill, who has been driving him crazy lately with the pool issue.

Jill was extremely upset by the fact that the Branford family, who had the estate down the road from them, has just finished building this huge pool that suddenly made theirs look like a kid's pool.

What would my friends think and say, she yelled this morning, after he had brushed her off yet again.

But he didn't brush her off because he didn't agree with her; he sure did, but this morning, her nagging just got to him. He simply couldnt be bothered with the pool issue this morning, while his mind was so preoccupied with so many other pressing issues he had with the business. One of those, was of course the lay off's he was going to announce this morning.

He has decided to take this course of action after reading several reports prepared for him by his teams of accountants, and they were all in agreement, layoffs are a must, if the company is to prosper again.

Although the announcement hasn't been made yet, but the rumors about it were flying around the company for sometime now.
Ron could feel the tension and resentment coming from many of his employees, although, most of them were good enough actors, and actresses, and were able to mask their anger with fake smiles.
But last night, when he got home, things changed.
He picked up the pile of mail their housekeeper has prepared for him, and walked into his office.

He spread out the pile of mail on the desk, like he always did, trying to decide which of the letters to open first.

There was one that immediately drew his attention, because it had a name, and a returned address he simply didn't recognize.
So he opened that one first.
And there, in big bold letters it read:

If you value your life and that of your family, don't go ahead with the layoffs tomorrow.

That was it, nothing else, but the message was loud and clear.

And as he sat there, frozen and unable to even put the letter down, his mind was feverishly trying to answer one simple question. Who besides the accountants knew about this move, and who was behind this letter?


Needless to say, he slept very little last night, and this morning, when Jill's nagging started, he just snapped.

Words were exchanged, a glass she threw at him barely missed him, and then as he was about to leave for work, he could hear Jill shouting at him from the other room:
"Don't even bother coming home tonight, if you don't bring with you the plans for our new pool."


He didn't answer this last remark, and just stormed out.

Once outside, he mumbled to himself: "I wish I wouldn't have to come back and see you anymore, you bitch."

And then he was in his car, speeding down the long driveway, for what he thought would be a long and difficult day

and now, hardly moving on the LIE, he was cursing his life, and his wife.
They never had kids. Jill claimed it would destroy her perfect figure.
At first, he used to argue with her, but then, after a while, he just let go, he simply got used to the situation, and actually had to admit, that with his busy schedule, it would be actually hard to find any time to spend with the kids.


Ron looked around the car in front of him, trying to see what it was that was slowing them down like this, but saw nothing.

He had already made several phone calls to the office, and at this rate, expected to make several more before reaching work.

He was tapping on the steering wheel, at an increasing speed and intensity, and let out a few curses, cursing the world for being so fucked up, his life for being so miserable and empty, and God for putting him through all of this.

"I wish I wouldnt be here anymore," he whispered at one point.

And then, without a warning, the traffic started moving again.
First, it increased to about thirty miles an hour, and then to almost fifty.
"Alright, that's what I'm talking about," Ron mumbled.

He pressed down on the gas paddle, and enjoyed the immediate response he got from this car, which at that second, he felt was one of the only good things in his life.


The traffic, in the opposite direction of the highway was moving very well too right now, at about 65 to 70 miles an hour for most of the cars.
John was driving his truck, and only about ten minutes away from making a delivery of metal rods to some construction site.

Yet John was nervous. He was supposed to have been there about fifteen minutes ago, but was stuck in traffic up to a few minutes ago.
And now, that traffic was finally moving well, he found himself stuck behind this slow poke, driving at about 65 miles an hour, way too slow for his needs.

It annoyed the hell out of him, and he decided to teach the bastard a lesson.
He started getting closer and closer to the guy, sure that before long, the guy would be intimidated enough, and would move over.

This system never failed, and wouldn't today.
After a few more seconds of this close proximity intervention, as he used to call it, it looked like the guy got the message, and it seemed like he was about to change lanes.

But then, the craziest thing happened. Just when John figured that the guy was moving over, the guy suddenly slammed on his breaks so hard, that John, now it total panic, did the same.
The truck's breaks locked, and it was starting to turn sideways, slowing down rapidly from about sixty-five miles an hour to close to zero, within two seconds.

One of the metal rods on top of the truck, became loose at this point, and flew forward with enormous speed, its flight path, took it to the other side of the highway.
It then penetrated the Bentleys windshield, and decapitated Ron's head before Ron realized that it did.

The Bentley then swerved widely and hit the car in front it, causing it to hit the divider, and then the car in front of it.

He looked down and saw the mess of mangled cars below him.
Wait a second, that's my head lying on the backseat; Ron thought, looking through the roof of the car.


So wait a minute, if I'm dead, what am I doing here thinking, and seeing all this?

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