When I lived in New York City, it seemed like nobody cared
what happened in the middle of the night, so long as it didn’t make any noise.
So here’s a joke scenario based upon that sentiment:
A person is being stalked by a vicious killer through the streets of New York
City at 2:00 or 3:00 am. He/she hides, but as the killer finds him/her, in an alley between
two large apartment buildings, the killer strikes, the victim screams, and someone leans out
the window of one of the apartments from around the sixth floor, saying: “Um, do
you mind getting murdered a little more quietly? Some of us have to get up for
work tomorrow.”
