Write the first three of four paragraphs of an adventure story. You may be tempted to keep going, but I shall ask politely that you do not. For now.
The Canucks opened this year's playoff adventure this evening with a loss in the first game of their best of seven series. Hopefully that is not a sign of things to come.
"Who are you?"
"My name would mean nothing to you."
I was angry at that point, not thinking clearly. The alcohol might have had something to do with it as well, to be honest. But how would you feel if you came home at two in the morning to find a stranger sitting in your living room, eating the last of your chocolate mint ice cream?
I raised my sopping wet umbrella overhead and took, from my perspective at least, a menacing step forward. The man in the black trench coat smiled, pointed a thin finger at my chest, and life as I knew it came to a rather abrupt halt.