Toast

Toast staggered to the door, still half asleep. Several policemen pushed right past him. You are under arrest, sir. Please get dressed and come with us. Now, Toast was becoming awake real fast. Hey, what’s the charge? The detective with the tan raincoat grabbed him by the arm. Murder! Toast was sure he was still sleeping. This had to be just a bad dream. It was bad all right, but it was no dream and that is how our story begins.