||[Jun. 2nd, 2006|09:49 am]
Would You Like a Rust Sandwich?
He could barely believe his luck the past few days. His wife had kept him so occupied that he'd nearly forgotten a promise made to someone a few days ago. Well, not so much a promise, really, but he did always try to make good on what he told people. Besides, she must be just about out of cigarettes now. He's holding a carton of Camels, a small tub of soup, and some ice packs. An interesting combination, to say the least.
That's why he's in front of the door to Room 302 once more, knocking loudly (but politely) on it. "Mrs. Sherman-Townshend?" he calls. "Terribly sorry to disturb you, but I have something I need to ask you." Then he waits.