There was a plastic cup hurtling toward Ignert, as he stood on the sidewalk, sniffing a cattle-prod which he had found in a public trash can. Being utterly confounded with his attempt to decide what exactly that smell was, Ignert was unaware of any motion. The plastic cup was, by nature of both its plasticness and its cuppity, unaware, also, of Ignert. A stick in the tree was very cognizant, however, and watched with glee for the impending collision.
His eyes crossing and uncrossing, Ignert turned slowly on his heels, intending, possibly, to meander back the way he had come. The tree beside him hung low, covering his face as he continued to sniff and saunter. The plastic cup, which was blue and obviously chewed on, collided at a very high rate of speed with the back of Ignert's nose. The cattle-prod dropped from his hand to land clanging on the pavement, and his other hand twitched and shot towards the tree branch hanging in his face. Apparently the concussion had been great, for he was noticeably lacking in any intelligence as, smiling, Ignert ingested a leaf.
A passing pedestrian laughed, then saw the blue plastic cup, late of the spot where it had fallen to the ground, rising up and ponderously beginning to go into motion. There was more smashing to do. The pedestrian ran into the road where he impacted with a fast-moving butt-green Maverick, was picked up off the ground to roll across the hood, spider-web the windshield, continue up and across the roof, rip off a rusty aerial from the back of the car, and come to rest against the tire of an unsympathetic beat-to-shit Honda Accord badly parallel parked on the side of the street opposite where Ignert was now gagging while a nurse, who had seen most of the cup-collision from the house in front of which was the tree from which Ignert had found the leaf, attempted to heimlich his ass.
The squeeling tires of the Maverick called the nurse's attention to the rolling pedestrian before he halted against the tire, and she dropped Ignert in her confusion. Ignert fell to his hands and knees, whereupon the force of a cough that was expelling the leaf caused his face, teeth-first, to meet the concrete rather forcefully. The nurse had begun to run into the street and did not notice Ignert's busted face.
In the meantime, the driver of the Maverick was standing with his hand resting atop his open door, one foot still in the car, looking across the street at the blue, plastic cup that was floating through the air in lazy circles, butt-end first. As the nurse reached the crooked-necked and battered pedestrian, a Pontiac Sunbird came around a corner, tires squeeling, and knocked into the door of the Maverick, probably breaking most of the ribs of the dazzled driver who had not noticed anything since seeing the floating cup. The nurse stood bolt-upright, dropping the put-upon and now dead pedestrian's head to the blacktop, and looked at the Maverick-driver, stuck between his car door and his car, eyes bulging and showing signs of shock.
Inside the Pontiac, a young lady was trying to get out of her driver's side door, which was situated nicely against the Maverick's driver's side fender. Deciding quickly, the nurse ran to get around the rear of the Maverick so as to attempt to unstick the stuck gentleman. The plastic cup, noticed only by the deflating Maverick-driver, smashed itself up against the back of the nurse's head with a popping sound. Smiling, the nurse ingested a piece of the Maverick's driver's side mirror.