Inside Lewis’s store—on the television screen beneath the counter—a masked figure was in the midst of dragging a young man into the area downstairs, reserved for adults only. The young man was unconscious, his jaw hung open as his head tilted from one side, to the next, whilst it hit each step, until they finally reached the basement’s floor.

It was hard to say, who this person was, but what was certain, is that the masked figure had a butcher’s knife, which poked out from his coat’s large pocket.

As the odd pair disappeared behind a rack of tacky cassettes, whose covers were plastered with women in lingerie, muscular men—they did not come out again, despite an entire twenty-four hours having passed.