Will walked to his car, alone.
Another late night given to
that thankless, soul-stealing
excuse for employment.

As he opened his car door,
a gun being cocked
sounded behind him.

Then a voice:
"Give me the car
and your cash."

Will laughed:
"I've got nothing worth taking.
**** me and be done with it."

The hole in his belly
didn't hurt nearly as
bad as he thought it would.

A woman heard the shot,
and came running over
after the murderer had fled.

She said:
"I'm Maggie, don't worry.
Help is on the way."

Will awoke in a hospital.
He stared at Maggie,
and reasoned something like this:

"Well, I got shot; I'm probably dead.
And the silhouette of your hair
against the window looks
an awful lot like a halo."

She blushed:
"I waited all night for someone
to come visit you; to make sure
you were okay."

Then truth in reply:
"I've got no one and nothing.
You'll wait there forever if you're
looking for someone who cares."

She frowned:
"That's not true!
Clearly I care about you."

Will, in disbelief:
"So it appears.
I guess there's a first for everything."

She held his hand:
"But I've got work to go to.
I'll be back in the evening.
I'm glad you're alive."

Will nodded.
Things were certainly
changing for the better.

Maggie left.
An intern entered,
staring at a clipboard.

The intern, to herself:
"Well, 'Will' is certainly
a lot like 'Bill'.

And it's only penicillin;
what's the worst that
could happen?"

A few moments later,
Will died of a massive
allergic reaction.

Oh well.
Easy come, easy go.