"I didn't tell you to look at it. I told you to bring it to me." The hand reaching for the cassette could have wrapped around my head and squeezed it like a tomato. I gave him the cassette, and he set it on the couch's right armrest. "I'll put it away later," he said.

Then he clamped his left hand on my shoulder, forcing me to sit down on the floor beside him. He closed his eyes and drooped his head forward, letting the tip of his bent proboscis lay upon his chest.

Within five minutes his snoring brought the woman in the neighboring apartment to my door. But her pounding failed to awaken Bullwinkle, whose grip on my shoulder prevented me from reaching the door. Eventually the pounding stopped, and the woman returned to her own apartment, but then the phone rang. And rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. And Bullwinkle slept.