By the time he'd changed his clothes the bed was cold.

He leaned his head back and chewed through a yawn.

When he looked at the map of the Caribbean, every island was in a different spot than he'd thought it should have been.

Nothing in the world could make him disagree.

No one could convince him that the cookie wasn't worth it.

Where's the grub?

It'd sounded better when the hobo had said it.

So, he went to Chicago.