The empty suitcase was at his feet. He could

The empty suitcase was at his feet. He could leave at any time. There was certainly enough money in the account to make it anywhere in the US, but not enough to get back. That's OK

because he never wanted to return to the Hotel California. It was definitely NOT a lovely place at all. Because the

metaphor of Hell was just a bit too much to bear. He's much rather

die so he hung himself. His roommate found him swinging in the garage. He smiled. Not only had the biggest jerk died, he was going to get a 4.0 this semester. He ran down to the

school administrator, squeeling gleefully. "My roommate's dead! Do you know what that means??" He expected news of an automatic 4.0, but was slapped with murder charges instead.

That's what you get for believing in a campus urban legend, he thought to himself as he was cuffed and stuffed into the backseat of the patrol car. The cops looked like strippers.

Could this be the present he'd hoped, but could never ask for? But where were the penguins? As they drove to the station, he noticed everyone staring into the car. THEY looked like

seals. Seals. Fuck. That explained the lack of penguins, and a lot more, besides. Man, this was bad stuff. He had to snap out of it soon. Too late. The car stopped and

Anchorage where he was greeted by a pack of Polar Bears dressed in jungle camouflage, which was lovingly done by the crazy igloo hermit.