What Really Happened.

The guy was 40 years old.
He was one of those blokes that always seems to get the shit-end of the stick, from employers, co-workers, you name it.
A bit of a loner, and people can sense it.
'People' didn't like him, because he kept himself to himself, was self-reliant, independent.
They could sense it.
He was getting older, and a little fearful of what people had been trying to do all his life; so he carried a knife.

One day he got on a Greyhound and sat down, at an empty seat, where he could stretch out for the long trip in comfort.

Behind him was one of the 'people', a 22 year old who knew everything and everybody like he'd read a map.
He took an instant dislike to the older man, for no reason other than his senses screaming through his rotten head that this man was a 'victim', his natural prey who couldn't do anything in self-defence.
At least nothing against this.
For sixty miles the younger man coughed, sneezed, sniffed and grunted at any sign of motion from the 40 year old; also at any sign of stillness, in case of a private thought or pleasure that he could stomp on.
And it was all done in secret, so that the ordinary Canadians on the bus either wouldn't or couldn't notice.
But today, the victim had had enough.
Today the rules changed, and the victim exterminated his oppressor, who died with a blood-curdling scream.
Today, they both lost their heads.
One literally and both quite properly.