The Sketchy Man

Y'know, those television PSAs of some sketchy guy driving a white van, hollering through the local neighborhood and offering to give out free yummy candies to kids? 

Well, I am happy to inform you, PSA-Man, whoever you are, your stern warnings when I was a wee innocent child did not go to waste. I recognized the red flags, knew immediately to veer away—yet decided to stay put anyway. 

Okay so maybe they were a waste. 

Yeah, I'd probably be kidnapped a lot. 

"Just received a fresh batch of ingredients an hour earlier," The man spoke, lining up fruits on the cutting board. A colorfully stained, white apron shielding his sleek, fancy coat beneath. "Just so you're informed, I take immense pride in my craft, especially the fruity variety. I daresay I know a knife like no one else." 

Then he began cutting, dicing, slicing with such ease and skill, that I felt a shiver shoot through me that had nothing to do with the cold.