A dark and stormy night. Actually, it was always a dark and stormy night here; the sky was always cloudy, the rain never stopped. The man with the twister hair had lost the Elvis Presley look-alike contest again. For the fifth time in a row. The diamond-studded jumpsuit he had bought for the contest was soaked with rain that he looked more like a mouse than the King of Rock 'n' Roll. The rain continued to pour down, dancing around his head in mockery, while his hair, hailed as an engineering marvel by the judges two hours earlier, rumbled like the neglected pipes of a Soviet-era cooperative house. His girlfriend, his only supporter, called after him once more. "At least I'm still here!?" He had gone deaf again...