I sprinted down the alley as bullets whizzed past my ears. They slammed into brick walls and metal trash cans, ricocheting wildly and destroying everything in their path. Sparks flew from shredded metal, and chunks of concrete exploded around me. Each bullet seemed to have its own deadly mission, tearing through anything it touched. Somehow, Lady Luck was on my side because amid all the chaos erupting around me not a single bullet so much as grazed me. I heard some shouting, and the car peeled off, followed by the sound of sirens.

Thank God, hopefully the police can catch them.

I kept running until I reached a rusty dumpster and slid behind it for cover. An angry cat yowled and scrambled away into the shadows. I must have woken the little guy from his nap. While catching my breath, I scanned the area. Several doors stretched along the alley wall, and beyond them, the street glowed with passing headlights and streetlamps. I need to get out of town. If the police don't catch those goons, then they are going to circle back, and I'm screwed.

Behind me, I could hear people talking and street noise. Staying low, I moved carefully along the row of doors, checking each one. The first three doors locked tight, but the fourth one was open and turned easily in my hand. I slipped inside the shop and gently pushed the door shut behind me. The place was pitch black and silent, which seemed odd because it's the middle of the afternoon.

Oh, that’s right, it's Christmas Eve, of course they’re closed.

With my heart rate slowing down, I caught my breath. Looking around, I was standing in the kitchen of a bakery. Moving slowly through the kitchen, I searched for a place to hide and think of a plan. Walking past the large table in the kitchen, I opened the door, and behind it was a pantry. The door clicked shut, and I immediately locked it behind me. With my back against the wall, I slid down next to a massive bag of flour and let out a long breath.

Shit, how did this happen? 

After spending all day yesterday hunting across the city for the perfect cinnamon roll, all I wanted was to savor it in my new apartment on Christmas Eve before meeting my girlfriend's family. Instead, everything went to hell because I was people-watching out my living room window, and my heavenly pastry is now scattered across the floor.

There was a noise beyond the pantry door. The sound was from the backdoor I'd used to get in. A light snapped on, casting someone's shadow across the narrow gap under the door. Fuck, I thought I had a lot more time to think of a plan; these guys are relentless.

My phone chimed, alerting me to a new text message. Fuck, I forgot to silence my phone!

Footsteps tapped slowly, growing louder as they approached the door. The shadow emerged from under the door, slowly inching towards me as the person behind it approached the door.

It was almost certain that whichever mafioso found me, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot me on the spot. My only option is to fight for my life. I looked around frantically for anything that could be a weapon. On the shelf next to the bags of sugar, there was a rolling pin.

I guess, beggars can't be choosers. I grabbed the kitchen tool and prepared myself for a fight.

The person was now in front of the door. There was a jingling of keys and then the sound of a click. The door was now unlocked. The doorknob turned clockwise and slowly opened.

Fuck, of course the mafia owns this bakery! This is probably the worst day of my life!

When the door opened, I held my rolling pin up high and then screamed at the top of my lungs.