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As the white powder of a quiet Christmas Eve gathered on the windowsill of the Man family home, the uniformed man knocked loudly on the door.
Through the drone of Jingle Bells coming from inside, he heard no response. He made his way around to the side of the house, taking one final step to land in front of the kitchen window. The blinking lights of the christmas tree illuminated the red liquid that lay like a pool on the floor.
The man cocked his head to the side and spoke into his radio... “Requesting backup at 123 Drury Lane, the Muffin Man is down, I repeat, the Muffin Man is down. Get some detectives down here!”
