And then, finally, my pitiful trip to the rob-you-while-you-are-sick hospital was over, and Hank and I were driving back to his home. I asked to stop at my own house, thinking I’d like to pick up some more weapons, but my request was denied.
“Thought we were going to lose you there,” Hank said as he drove his tree-saving plug-in car made by little rice-eating men in some godforsaken faraway land.