I walked down the street with a bucket of blood in one hand and a large bag of Lay's Potato Chips in the other. I couldn't eat just one, but my other hand was carrying That Bucket, so I just jammed my face into the bag and munched.

I wasn't very careful with the bucket. It was pretty full, and blood kept spilling over the sides. Some of it got on my pants and socks. Some of it got on the sidewalk. Some of it got on your shoes, though I hadn't realized it yet.

After a few days of walking I finally noticed you walking behind me. I didn't turn around. I let the chips fall where they may. Nothing fancy--you just slit my throat. I slumped to the ground. Out with the old blood, in with the new. You picked up the bucket and the chips and started munching. Don't you remember? I do.