Wayne clipped his toenails once a week like clockwork every Friday at 6pm. It helped him to think and siphon through all the crap he was presented with earlier in the day. Something about the clip clip clip of the nail clippers kept him feeling productive and relaxed in his own little busy head of a world. Taxes and death and death and taxes. Texas and meth and meth and Texas. He'd already lost most of his money on a Happy Days scam a wannabe filmmaker named Sy presented him with. It was supposed to be a movie involving all of the characters from Happy Days. At least those that were still alive. The working title was Happy Days In The Retirement Home. Supposedly Sy knew Henry Winkler and asked Wayne to loan him $350,000.00 as an advance payable to Fonzi to secure him for the film. It was everything Wayne owned and he even sold his very respectable collection of WW2 gold coins his Grandpa had given him over the years. The last Wayne heard, old Sy was hiding somewhere in Texas in an underground meth lab with a tunnel to Mexico and all the money was gone. "I mustn't get too upset about this" Wayne thought. "My doctor warned me that my blood pressure was already out of control." He kept clipping at his toenails until blood started slowly dripping down the side of his foot. "It's almost tax time. Christ! I need to catch a break." He ignored the doorbell and thought about getting a job at the new Walmart just to be able to pay his substantial monthly alcohol bill. "Fucking Fonzi scheme" he mumbled to himself.