He absentmindedly ran his trembling fingers through the tufts of matted fur on his head and plucked an old hunk of something from the depths of orange. Whatever it was, it possessed a violently emerald hue. He brought the mysterious object closer to his bloodshot eye and suddenly realised that it was cheese. Then he remembered. Cheese was green on Tuesdays, greener than purest envy and recently moistened moss and even the revolting toxic sludge that sewage facilities casually dump into the choking waterways like one dumps a used-up lover's concreted corpse into the polluted green depths of the sighing ocean. Tuesdays brought out the green in cheese; Tuesdays brought out the green in his perpetually haggard eyes. Tuesdays were vile days for dairy products, but especially cheese.

Tuesday. His father. Cheese. Tuesday.

Never gonna give you up.

Suddenly he became painfully aware of who was responsible for his father's untimely disappearance so many green Tuesdays ago, and before he knew it, words began flowing from his twitching mouth. "It -- it was you!" he sputtered, pointing a shaking finger at the angelic-visaged Wakeman. "You -- you killed my father! On a Tuesday!"