"The Marq was still frozen. The defroster blew open a set of eyes on the bottom of the windshield. Wayne swiped the ice off the dash and peered up the stairs to his apartment. He should've been inside, under his electric blanket watching season three of the M*A*S*H* complete collection, remote in one hand, Hawkeye-tini in the other. But it was first Friday of the month, and first Fridays were pool with Wally. A promise was a promise, and the little jerk would be waiting."