Ling surged with confidence as he drove to the Wesely residence. With every mile, something hard and tight and heavy was disappearing, his face losing impassivity, his control abandoned. He smiled, he laughed, he sang along loudly/badly with “The Most Joyful Sound on Earth.” He ran several red lights and discarded his sunglasses on the dashboard. He was invincible, the Righteous Fist, the Unconquerable Power, the Fate Tempter, the delusional.

For, he’d forgotten or perhaps he’d never been educated in the universal law of failure--“If something can go wrong, it will.” And things were definitely going wrong for a great many people, especially…

The Author: When Ling broke both Brady’s legs it put the author in quite a fix. In fact, you could say that she wrote herself into a corner. How was she to drive the plot to a storming climatic finale when her hero was lying unconscious in a deserted section of the park with two broken limbs. And to compound the problem, Kai also mercilessly flung Brady’s cell phone far into the foliage. Apparently, the author must now rely on chaos, coincidence, and human error to progress the story; cheap tricks and slight of hand in favor of artistic integrity. Sigh.

Ling: While it sounded to Ling (and the author) that he had indeed broken both of Brady’s legs. He did not. One was merely heavily bruised. And while Brady may have felt like both his legs were broken, they were not. They just hurt like hell. Moreover, a small rat terrier caught the tossed cell phone. Bailey (the dog) thought it a wild game of fetch.

Brady: Everything is wrong for Brady—except he came to consciousness much quicker than anticipated, which the way he is feeling is arguably a bad thing. Also, a black and white rat terrier had been licking his face, slobbering all over him. After shooing the mutt away, it picked up his cell phone. When he tried to retrieve it, the dog danced out of his path. Bailey thought it an exciting spot of keep-away.

Will & Mrs. H: They were running out of gas. Thinking to escape on foot, Will pulled into stall seven of a crowded car wash called “Hot Bodies.” But there was a line. And worse, there were scantily bikini clad women at the end of the line happily soaping up a midnight blue trans-am. Abhorred, Mrs. H promptly covered young Will’s ever widening eyes…before the car came to a complete stop. They hit the yellow Beetle ahead of them, causing a small dent.

Ling’s Men: Chasing their prey, the men also pulled into stall seven of “Hot Bodies.” Likewise, they were momentarily distracted by the, shall we say, atmosphere of the establishment. The sedan too came to a sudden stop pushing the Cadillac into the sunshine Beetle. The back end of the Beetle was crushed. But not as crushed as the spirits of the very large, very mentally disturbed owner of the Beetle, who had just been released from prison for three separate incidents of road-rage. He had a gun.

“Buffy the Buffer” from “Hot Bodies”: True she wasn’t wearing anything she wouldn’t wear to the beach, but being ogled at like she was an object instead of person day after day was getting old fast. And some of the clientele—ick! Not to mention it was getting chilly out or that she had dishpan hands or that a heavy set man in a floral Hawaiian print had just broken protocol by getting out of his car while brandishing a gun. “Good clean fun my fender!” she spat as she ducked behind the trans-am vowing to quit upon survival.

Chloe: Her chopsticks broke. Brady was late. The food was cold. She had no fortune. Kai Ling was parking across the street.