"The man speculated the possibility of escaping the fiend. He weighed the probability of eloping from the looming ghost, a groom set to marry his freedom of the beryl cumber. Because the cerulean tail was the most cunning being that he had ever been in contact with, the man took additional steps to ensure his independence. He plotted against the adversary dwelling upon the depression between his sharp shoulder blades. A great deal of his scheme was invented during the darkest hours of dawn, for his navy ulcer slept heavily at three forty-five in the morning. He spent slow hours lying face-up, his eyes searching for peace in the ceiling, his mind wreaking havoc on itself attempting to create an invincible strategy. His pupils burned as his eyes blazed a sleepy red. And at last his plan was complete, polished and ready."