You 're driving down a road , dressed in your finest clothes , and there is a bag next to you on the passenger seat . What 's going on ?

I straightened my collar one more time. Not that it mattered; nothing could *really* change the inevitable. Nothing could change what would happen when I arrived. 
 
 I hit a bump, causing the brown bag to fall to the floor. `` Meh'' I said to nobody. It could handle a little tumble. 
 
 I saw the church on the horizon, sitting upon it's own small hill. It looked back at me, showing the fire in it's eyes. There was no serenity or salvation within that church. 
 
 Only hell. 
 
 I parked up, close enough to run away in a pinch, but far away enough so my car would be okay. I grabbed the bag, walked in, and sat down in the corner opposite the emergency exit. A couple minutes now, and I could begin. 
 
 I checked my watch, only to see 12:00. Let's go. 
 
 I removed the canister of gasoline from the bag, ready to evacuate the church. I dumped it all over the corner, quickly following with a match. Time to see if those acting classes paid off. 
 
 `` JESUS CHRIST! A FIRE! THE CHURCH IS ON FIRE! EVERYBODY OUT!'' I yelled, running to the exit to help the older people leave. The priest was last one out. 
 
 `` Sit the fuck down, you shit.'' I said, as composed as I could. The fire had spread to the first 2 pews. 
 
 `` What's the matter with you! There's a fire!'' 
 
 `` Do you recognize me, old man?'' 
 
 He looked closely at my face, trying to find a slimmer of familiarity. 
 
 Then he saw it. 
 
 `` Reeves, you motherfucker. You're supposed to be dead!'' 
 
 `` She *is* dead!'' I growled, losing my composure. `` You should n't have done it, old man! You should a left me and her alone!'' I could feel tears welling up now. The last thing the old shit would see was my tears. 
 
 I was ok with this. 
 
 The fire was up to the 7th pew, almost to me. It silhouetted the old bastard, reminding me of what I had to do. 
 
 I pulled the final item from the bag: a nickel plated revolver. The trigger felt cold, in harmonious contrast with the fire. 
 
 `` Goodbye you old fuck.'' I shot him in the right knee; his good one if I remembered correctly. Before he could even call out in pain, I kicked him 5 feet back into the fire. 
 
 His screams of agony were only interrupted by the sound of firetrucks pulling up. My work here was done. 
 

