Nickolas Nash was sitting in his Toyota 4Runner on the side of the road. "I'm a Dullard for Fooling You" by The Snarls was squawking on the radio. He turned the radio off.
For no apparent reason, he felt for his chest and his spine and his carotid artery. They were all there. That was good. Also, his esophagus was not smoking. That was good, too.
He felt megalomaniacal. He must have had quite a nap. What time is it? He looked at the clock. Three p.m. About what you'd expect, still on schedule. The nap had taken no time at all.
He looked out the window. There was a buffalo wallow visible across the road, but nothing special to see. Probably time to get going. He started up his Toyota 4Runner and took off down the road. "Pagofacu mabroovood," he thought to himself.