At that point, Theodore woke up, sweating, short of breath, fists 
tightly clamped.  He looked at his clock: 2:05.  "Oh crap..." he whispered 
under his breath, though there was nobody around to hear him.  He had to 
do something.  He just had to.
	Friday afternoon, Theodore scheduled an hour for a telephone call 
to his movie rental store so that he would not be interrupted.  So, at three
o'clock in the afternoon, he dialed the store's number and put the 
transmitter up to his ear.  
	"Hello, this is the movie-rental store, how may we help you?" he 
heard.  
	"Yes, hello, the other day, I was informed that I am in possession
of an overdue movie."  
	"Oh, OK."  Pause.  
	"And, yes, I would like to... I mean, I was not given any 
information about it, except that I checked it out eighteen months ago, and
did not return it."
	"That may be so, sir, but I cannot help you.  I'm sorry."  
	"Well then, who can?"  
	"The manager, sir."  
	"Well then," yelled Theodore - he was really growing quite tired
of these charades, but with a hint of cautiousness and anxiety, 
complements of his previous night's apparitions, "please let me speak with 
him."
	"Oh, sir, it's quite unfortunate, but he was fired several days ago."  
"May I speak with the new one then?"  
	"We do not yet have a new one, and anyhow, he would not be able 
to help you, I don't believe."  
	"Why not?"  
	"How would our new manager know the policies of our past
manager?"  
	"Wouldn't you instruct him?"  
	"It is not our place, sir, as telephone-answerers and counter 
attendants to tell our boss what to do, what policies to implement, which
ones to scrap, etc."  

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16 Renford Road
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