"Please help," Kyle Crimmons had begged pitifully. "My little brother has gone missing." All around them were the sounds of panic and destruction echoing in the narrow alleyway.
Timmons was only partly a fool for not picking up on the ruse. He couldn't help it if Kyle was a gifted actor.
"I'm sorry," replied Timmons. "But I've got to get moving." He glanced around at the surroundings, silently adding obviously.
Timmons then made the mistake of turning his back on Kyle. He got no more than 3 steps down the alley before Kyle had stealthily sprinted up and put a gun against his head.
"Don't move."
Suddenly two younger teenagers rappelled down the alley wall on ropes.
"We'll take your backpack," said the youngest kid as he moved in closer.
Timmons instinctively reached for the butcher knife. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to risk his life protecting a bag full of mostly worthless items, but it probably had to do with his shitty morning mood combined with a pride about not wanting to be held up by a group of teenagers.
The knife was barely in sight before it was shot out of Timmon's hand by unseen rooftop sniper, Gary Crimmons.
"Don't try that again or the next one goes in your brain," said Kyle. "Our sniper can't miss."
Timmons had no plan to surrender. Next he reached for the spray bottle. He was a little faster this time and had managed to not only produce the bottle but to move it relatively close to the face of the youngest Crimmons child. Timmons made no attempt to actually spray the bottle, for he knew the sniper would take care of that for him.
Gary, assuming it was another knife or a gun, automatically shot the bottle out of Timmon's hand. The noxious mixture splashed all over the kid's face. Before the screaming started, the next bullet had gone through Timmon's brain as promised.
"AHHHHHH!" screamed the youngest kid as Timmon's body hit the concrete. "He fucking splashed ACID in my eyes! I can't see shit right now! I'm fucking BLINDED!"
"It's not acid," said Kyle, inspecting the bottle. "Just febreeze."
"No way, it's something stronger! Smell it... does it smell like febreeze?! It's fucking BLEACH!"
Gary then also rappelled down the wall on a rope.
"What's going on?" he asked urgently. "You all know the drill. Get the stuff and move out. Never linger."
"That guy splased something bad in Joe's eyes," explained Kyle. "He can't see anything right now."
"Well then somebody hold his fucking arm while we run down the street," said Gary. "That's no excuse to hang around in this cramped alleyway like a stupid rat that's wandered into a trap."
No more words were said in the alleyway. The middle Crimmons child, Luke, scooped up the coveted backpack while Kyle assisted the temporarily blinded Joe. Every player in their place.
Later, the pitiful contents of the backpack were explored. Everyone was thoroughly baffled that Timmons Mackelroy had died to save so many worthless items. But then again, no item is truly worthless to a MacGyver-esque family trying to make it in the apocalypse. The candles, butcher knives and other household items were saved for later usage.
