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Hoogar awoke that morning, yawned, and climbed out of bed. Not only out of bed, but out the window. That’s right two stories—straight down. It seems that the bed had rolled next to the window during the night. But a little thing like this was not going to shake up Hoogar, so after eating his bowl of Kellogg corn flakes, which he spilled all over himself, he trotted out to his bike, started it, put it in gear, and calmly drove off.
He didn’t go too far, mind you, for he had chained the bike to the rear wall of the garage because of burglars being in the neighborhood. The wall was no longer there. Once on the road, Hoogar calmed down from the garage bit. He noticed an empty coke bottle on the road ahead, slowed down, picked it up and tried throwing it in the dustbin next to the road.
It landed on a security guard passing at that time. Hoogar received a sound beating by the Doberman. After receiving emergency treatment at the Kasturba Hospital, Manipal, Hoogar made his way to the college. The lift door opened and he stepped in.
In the scrub-woman’s bucket, that is. Seeing that his feet hadn’t been washed in a couple of weeks, Hoogar dismissed this without another thought.
To make a long story short, Hoogar also managed to get an electric shock from a short in the light switch; he got thrown out of class for questioning his professor in the lab; and when he got a piece of dust in his eye, he got slapped by a babe who thought he was winking at her.
Hoogar left for home.
He pulled in the driveway and put on his brakes. He knew he should have had those brakes fixed long ago; oh well, now there were only two walls to the garage.
Hoogar got up from the fallen bike shaking, and with a look of fear in his bloodshot eyes. He ran to the medicine cabinet, swallowed a dozen tablets of aspirins, and hit the sack.
Now you may think that there’s a surprise ending to this story, and you’re right. Hoogar woke up at 11:59 that night, and looked at the calendar. It was Thursday. Friday, the 13th, was tomorrow.