Imagine for a moment that you’re walking down a quiet street minding your own business when a car driven by a distracted teenager veers around the corner and up onto the sidewalk and clips you (don’t text and drive kids).
You tumble through the air and hit the ground in a heap a few yards away and the teen speeds off. You’re a bloody mess, and are barely hanging on to consciousness when you see a stranger running towards you. He runs up to you and kneels down.
“Wow, you’re really messed up,” he says. “Your one leg’s popped out of its socket, want me to put it back for you?”
“Are… are you a doctor?” you ask.
“No. But I’m a really nice guy.”