As I was biking home the other day, I noticed an old beat up red, white and blue box truck making all the turns I was a few hundred feet behind. I thought nothing of it, the post office normally makes its routes on a similar path I ride. When I got back I paid no more mind of it, went about my usual routine and went to bed.

The next day on my way out to work I noticed the same beat up red, white and blue box truck waiting 100 feet down the street with the engine running. When I hopped on my bike and left, it did the same but in the opposite direction. I thought this could not be a coincidence, they don't start delivering this early. So, I arrived at work and called the post office. They told me one of the old retired guys couldn't let go of the glory days and actually bought himself an old mail truck to drive around his former route. They said I should pay no mind and continue on my business, apparently he does this a lot and they've gotten quite a few calls. Again, I pay no more mind and go about my day.

But, this time on my way home on the bike, the old loon pulls up next to me at a stop sign not far from my place. He asks in an old crotchety voice, "You wanna race son?" Knowing he's just crazy and missing his glory days I agree. I crank it up to 421 watts on the bike and start to fly, but he's keeping pace, after all, I'm on a bicycle and he's in a motor vehicle.

As I make the last couple of turns to get back to the apartment, I notice a funky smell in the air, like a bad burning and chemical smell. I think, it's NYC, this happens, after all, NJ is just across the river. But, as I make the final turn I see it, the south east corner of the building is completely blown up, just gone!!!!!!! As I pull up to see if anybody is hurt, the crazy postman comes ripping back into my reality with an awful cackle. I know he's crazy and probably can't help it, but come on, there could be hurt people in there, I tell him to shut up and go on his way.

The next thing I know he jumps out of the truck throws a cape on and grabs a sickle out of the back!!!!!! He really had gone postal and I couldn't believe it!!!!! I hop back on the bike crank it up to 421 watts and get about half way down the street when I crash over what could only be a fragment of what blew up my apartment, a bunch of tasty smokes from the REAPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!