Somewhere, in a dark room: A few burly men in blue and burgungy uniforms are sitting around a table, leisurely sipping coffee. One of them speaks up, "What shall we do today, men? How best to disserve the public?"

The other one says, "How about we all just speed by bus stops, ignoring potential passengers?"

All the men say in unison, "Brilliant!"

People of the world, listen up. The most evil men in the world drive our buses. Culled from the DNA of past evil men, just like Serpentor in G.I. Joe, bus drivers are genetically altered to be as callous and inhuman as possible, all the while surreptitiously infiltrating our society like an insidious plague, unbenownst to the public.

These people, nay, scum see someone running to the bus stop, just meters across the street and choose to ignore them. Oh, the drivers do indeed see the poor commuter, but due to the lump of pitch black coal nestled deep within their chest, they just drive, caring not for the suffering of the guy left outside in the cold.

How I hate these bus drivers, or should I say slave drivers, because they have complete control over our lives. Our schedule is ultimately in their hands, and even if we complain, it falls on deaf ears. They belong to some sort of cult, an old boys' club, where nothing matters, except their ultimate goal of world domination.

Meanwhile, back at that dark, smoke-filled room, at the end of the day, one man laughs, "...and you should have seen the look on his face when I didn't stop!"

A chorus of guffaws follows forth, wafting through the air like the smoke from the cigarettes butts in the ashtray.