"Meow," said Mr. Tom, the cat, more to himself than to the crowd that had gathered around the increasingly gaping hole in the floor.

"What do you make of it?" asked the stringy haired blond. Her sweatshirt was faded red and had a neck stretched beyond the limits of fashion, (if one could consider a faded sweatshirt fashionable in the first place).

"It started last Tuesday," replied Maura. "It's a giant hole and it just keeps getting bigger." Maura always had a knack for stating the obvious and the crowd found itself capitivated with her response.

Mr. Tom circled meticulously before settling down in the perfect spot on the carpet. "I think I should like a tuna sandwich," he thought.