THE TEENAGER SAT ON HER QUEEN-SIZED BED CRYING. She was in depression mode of mixed-emotions of afraid, dirty, betrayed, alone and many more-negativity feelings. Jane recalled being in Venus’ Garden-of-Eden in the dreamworld, where she confronted with tween-Peter – and had argued with his ‘unfair’ and unrealistic-demands, where she did ‘not’ give-into submission…

… they parted-ways, in disagreements – and…

… when she returned-back. to be shocked, that Peter as an incubus…

… WAS PUNISHING HER, by-raping her insentient ‘host’ in her-sleep.

The angry-Jane felt dirty, as she had been-violated last-night – and felt she was no-longer in-control of the mind-and-body of this teen-host… who was defenceless and powerless… to the ‘attacks’ by the-greater-evil – that was looming into multiple-world dimensions…

… in-depression, she felt suicidal and wanted to take her own life… but she thought of Paul, who would BE ‘ALONE,’ in this cursed-world if she died…

‘… maybe, it is best if I live for him… where WOULD PAULY ‘GO’…? Where he too-is alone, without his-Alicia…

… I must guide him, AS HIS-BEACON… to get back to ‘OUR-OWN’ PERTH…’

<>

PAUL ARRIVED 15 MINUTES EARLIER ON HIS 2ND DAY, in his teen-world. He looked up at ‘this’ prestigious, ageing-school building – which was 131-years-old, that schooled more than 1000 students, UNLIKE THE STAMFORD HIGH OF HIS-PERTH – that looked-newer, of less than 60 years, and had only more than 400 students…

… but the layout was the same, for him to-navigate – as he had used the vicinity-routes before, with his wheelchair of his-school, ‘not’ long-before…

… but he wanted TO GO ‘HOME’ TO HIS-WORLD… but he doesn’t know-how.

Standing-against the influx of students entering the school, who were rapt, with every-other one talking about the school anniversary that they would be celebrating-soon. Paul noticed he wasn’t alone who-was waiting, for the orange Ford Taurus, in the school’s parking lot…

… it was the tween-Aka Tandeka Ibori – who used to be a senior, and a Zimbabwean friend of Jane in his-school…

‘… the same-people are of different ages – and some even came back from the dead… in this-country called Perthland…’

Paul approached Aka… stood beside her, and greeted…

“G’ day, nice weather.”

“Stay-away from me, you-pervert – my boyfriend told me ‘not’ to talk to you-both trouble-making Walker-twins!”

She walked a few steps away, and turned her back-to him – Paul smiled in embarrassment, shaking his head, scoffing – that ‘word’ had travelled fast among students, for his ‘mistakes.’

He also can’t get his head around, that ‘the’ boyfriend she was dating – was just-a 2-year-old in his world, whom both the Walker-twins had ‘rescued’ in the zoo’s black panther’s enclosure…

… his reveries popped, by the sound of a horn, Aka waved at her boyfriend and Paul saw Jane in the car’s cabin, in the passenger’s seat. Paul and Aka walked up to the car, as the Wilson-siblings alighted.

Paul’s smiles faded as he saw the glum-faced, Jane was seen arguing with Samuel. Once she saw Paul and she ran to him and hugged him tight, sobbing. The afro-haired tween was shouting as he saw his sister in Paul’s arms – Aka was pacifying him, as they both spoke in Swahili – Paul didn’t understand, but the only word the couple spoke-that, he recognised-was…

… ‘Dougie.’

Now every-student walking had stopped, gawking at the hoo-ha that had happening in the parking lot – when they saw Aka dragging Samuel-away by the shirt-sleeve, and he was cursing at-both Jane… who was hugging onto Paul.

Once Jane was composed and wiped her tears, she confessed to Paul that for a couple of nights, in the dreamworld-realm, VENUS WAS TRYING TO PATCH-UP and hook-up Peter, as her soulmate – when she HAD ‘REFUSED’ HIM – ‘PETER’ HAD ‘supernaturally’ travelled into a portal… and went to her-house, AND THEN-RAPED HER teen-host, in her sleep…

Paul was both shocked and confused…

“Peter is an incubus… but how? I thought we solved that in Egypt… when you destroyed the blood-vial the ‘other-day’ – how is it possible, that he is ‘still’ possessed by Asmodeus?”

“I don’t know-Paul… just as how-we are-here, as ‘teenagers’ in this world, is-possible?”

Paul recalled that PETER HAD ‘TRESPASSED’ into Janie's dream-before – when he ‘distracted’ her… while her brother was abducted, in the night of their zoo-mission…

“… so, Peter is-now having THESE EVIL-SUPERNATURAL ABILITIES – while we ‘both’ are powerless here, to stop him…”

Jane nodded to-agree. “Pauly, what do we do?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I really don’t know…”

The worried Paul held the depressed classmate’s arm and guided her to their classroom. They both were quiet as they walked into the school corridors – then the PA system, blared aloud, with the Principal Mrs Burnell’s excited-announcement to the entire school…

“ATTENTION TO ALL STUDENTS – PRAISE-BE – THE BRITISH AIRLINES WITH OUR PROMINENT AND BELOVED FOUNDING FATHER, AND HIS DELEGATES, HAVE MADE A SAFE-TOUCHDOWN IN PERTHLAND AIRPORT, THIS MORNING – THEY ARE RESIDING AT THE STAMFORD HOTEL AS-OF-NOW – THEY WILL BE JOINING US, AT THE 131ST SCHOOL ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION HELD AT THE AUDITORIUM, ON THE DAY-AFTER TOMORROW…

… THE SCHOOL TALENT DIVISION’S ENTERTAINMENT-ENTRIES ARE STILL OPEN TILL TOMORROW, YOU-STUDENTS PLEASE-PARTICIPATE AND MAKE THIS YEAR’S CELEBRATION, AS THE BEST ONE-EVER… THANK YOU VERY-MUCH ON A SHORT NOTICE, DEAR STUDENTS!”

Jane and Paul were the only-ones were ‘not’ in the mood, in loud-crowd, in the corridor – who were cheering in their-delights.

-O-

Ever-since Paul heard from Jane, that his twin, had supernatural-powers and was using’ it in this realm – he regretted signing-up, for the night’s talent-show dancing-competition…

… now…

… he got a bigger fish to fry – to-find a way TO ESCAPE…

… THIS REALM’s madness that was affecting him and Jane, who…

… were without their-superpower, as mere…

… bland-useless, able-bodied teenagers.

They reached the 2nd floor to their classroom, and when they got to the door, Jane backed off and trembled… so-afraid to find the ‘possessed’ Peter in the rear of the classroom… waiting for-her.

The terrified Jane wanted to go home…

Paul opened the door and peeked in… he saw Peter and Terry’s desk were ‘empty’…

‘… where the bloody hell, is he? … he didn’t come-back to the Dicksons, last night-too…’

Paul persuaded Jane to come-into the class – she saw 4 vacant-seats of the rear-backbenchers. She sat at her desk and called out to him…

“Pauly, please-please sit beside-me.”

Paul sat on Terry’s chair – and before-long, the first-bell rang… Fred Bailey the English Literature teacher, commenced his-class.

<>

MEANWHILE, PETER WENT FOR BREAKFAST with Terry Donavan – his bankroll ‘minion’ – while his clobber got in the customer-line, Peter went to the Macca’s washroom, with his gym-bag.

He washed his face and did ‘not’ shower that day, as he did ‘not’ go-home yesterday.

Peter re-wore his crumpled school uniform from yesterday, in the toilet-stall and stuffed his soiled sportswear into the bag, and came out to the restaurant. He walked to the table where Terry was having a big-breakfast…

… there were a double-orders of Big-brekkie burgers, Mighty McMuffins, ham & cheese pockets and coffees on 2 trays…

“… err, I’m a sportsman… I don’t drink coffee, mate…it contains caffeine.”

“What? I thought it would ease the hangover, from last night…”

“Nah, my late-daddy used to say that drinking coffee is bad, and he doesn’t drink coffee too… except-my mom does, and my twin… but that's their bloody-lives, let them drink whatever hot-piss they-want… cos’ they don’t play sports.”

“Petey-Pete, I’ve known you since the first day of school from we’re little, and now we-both in our final school-years – I’m wondering SINCE WHEN YOU DID-PLAY ANY-SPORTS, mate?”

“Whatever…”

Peter picked-up Terry’s credit-card from the table, and went over to order a coke. This was baffling to Terry that Peter was ‘not’ his usual-clobber that he knew, up-to yesterday – where he had been talking-and acting strange ever since…

… he is ‘not’ remembering things too…

-O-

After brekkie, they ran out of ciggy, and walked up to the corner 7-eleven store – Terry was complaining he was still hungover and didn’t feel like going to school, despite having 2 cups of coffees…

“Now you say that once I changed out of my tracky-daks… YOU ARE THE ONE who insisted on going to school, in the first place.”

“Sorry, Pete… no-worries, we go to WHEREVER YOU WANT, and I pay for the fuel.”

At the convenient store check-out counter, Terry picked up a pack of Winfield for Peter, and a Benson & Hedges for himself…

… remembering the argument, they almost-had ‘yesterday’ with the brand-of ‘Peter Jackson’ which they both disliked.

Peter picked up 2 tall-cans of RedBull from the chiller – and told Terry, to drink the energy-drink for his hangover. While paying, the newspapers’ headlines…

… caught Terry’s attention and he bought also, the Perthland Herald…

‘Lord Stamford in Perthland’

-O-

At the parking lot, in the DeLorean cabin, Peter lighted-up a Winfield, finding in his iPhone to where to hangout… for the rest of the day, since they both were playing-truant, whether to go to the CDB-bars or Perthland Arena – while Terry lit too-his brand…

… while reading the newspaper, with sheer interest…

“Pete, the Lord is in town – aren’t you excited?”

“Bah! Why are you call him that – I only call God-as my Lord… those Pommy have those absurd ego-titles, and they think they are like-Gods when they are ‘not’ even-famous.”

“What are you talking about? Lord Stamford is known internationally, and the trillionaire is ranked ‘famous’ among ranks of world leaders, like Donald Trump… and even the Dalai Lama!”

“Trump-who?”

“Are you kidding me? You don’t know Donald Trump?”

“Nope… don’t ring a dumbbell, just-who he is?”

“You drongo, you don’t even know the PRESIDENT OF NEW MEXICO, who is the leader of the free world? Where have you ‘been’ lately, mate? Stuck your head in the sand, like Big-bird?”

“Bah, I’m ‘not’ interested in some crooked-politician…”

“Oh-yeah, that-I agree – because he is a Gemini, like you too.” Terry laughed.

“This-Trump is a Gemini…?”

“Yea-hh, he is, where is your general-knowledge-at, Petey-Pete?”

“I’m beginning to like this-Lord Donald Trump – if he’s some President therefore he’s a great-achiever like me.”

He closed the gull-winged door, started the ignition of his dream-car, and drove away from the parking lot.

-O-

Peter was driving, and mentally planning their itineraries but Terry Donovan was annoying him like a broken-record of Lord Stamford – it was niggling…

“Just shut-up there with your-Lord Stamford nonsense – you giving me a brain-tumour…”

“What nonsense? He is THE FOUNDING FATHER of our famous and prestigious school?”

“What founding-father, our school is an ‘old’ school, right? Is this some-marketing ploy?”

Terry looked at his-forgetfulness in disbelief…

“Why are-you kind-of ‘off’ since yesterday, you don’t seem to remember much, do-you?”

“Okay-Terr, push my-button-to reset – and humour me along the way, with details of your logic.”

“Okay-you galah, here it goes – he was the one who opened our school way-back-then when he was 29 years old, and many other schools around the world, since-then – and, now our school is celebrating its 131st birthday, which makes our-Lord close TO 150 YEARS of age…”

“That’s bullshit – NO-ONE LIVES THAT LONG – is he feeding on tortoise-milk?”

“Hey-watch your mouth there – its offensive… to the ‘great’ man he-is…”

“Come-on Terr… a man living 150 years…? That’s already fake-news, written in it – unless, he was on Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not.”

“You don’t believe me – look here!!?”

Terry showed page 3, of the Perthland Herald – a photo of a very-very old man… that made the astonished Peter decelerate-the pedal, that slowed down the DeLorean…

“Crickey, look at those wrinkles – he is a walking prune.”

Terry scoffed. “The medical-world is saying that he is a walking-miracle, to live this long – they say, Lord Stamford is an-immortal… because research says that, he has a rare blood-type rhesus called the ‘Golden Blood’…”

In-pure excitement, Peter interrupted him…

“HEY-TERR, I HAVE THAT BLOOD-TYPE TOO!!!”

“Come-on, Peter…. get ‘real,’ will you…? You ‘always’ think, you are always-special too…” Terry scoffed.

“What? You don’t believe me, do you? Go-ask Hiro and Taro… they-both work for Janey’s scientist-uncle – they came recently-over… and gave me a blood test… and they had confirmed that I have this rare ‘Golden Blood’ running in my veins, gnarly right!!!”

Terry did ‘not’ know whether PETER WAS FANTASIZING OR JUST PLAIN-SARCASTIC – he was ‘done’ arguing with his bloated-ego… and he went back-quiet, reading the newspaper.

While Peter was thinking on HOW-TO CAPITALIZE AND PROFIT… now that the influential visitors-from-Manchester were HERE, IN ‘HIS’ DOORSTEP…

“What-else? Tell me ‘more’ about this wealthy-Lord Stamford…”

Terry ignored him…

… but spoke-again after ‘more’ of Peter’s annoying pesters…

“… but his health is slowly fading, where he had ‘not’ come these couple of years, to celebrate the school’s 129th and 130th anniversary – don’t you remember the last-2-year, Pete?

“Nope...”

Peter responded his ‘lie’ flatly because – he WAS ‘NOT’ FROM AROUND here… as had ‘ARRIVED’ FROM HIS ‘OWN’ WORLD, just-yesterday.

Then he heard Terry laughing aloud, and saying…

“… yes, I now-remember, hahaha… you and Poe-pee-Poe were-down, with chicken-pox that year, you both didn’t come to the celebration – Pete, which year was that, 129th or 130th?

… huh? I can’t remember I ‘even’ had… this chicken-pox…”

“Jesus! Seriously-mate, you should get immediate hospital-help – your memory is very bad.”

... Peter saw Terry was now-quiet, and-back reading the-papers. So, he went on deciding where to go and hangout – CDB-pubs or Perthland Arena.

“Oh-My-God! I can’t believe-this – pinch-me, to-get me come to my-senses-Pete!!!”

“Huh… now what?”

“She is coming! JEZEBEL IS COMING!”

“Jezebel-who?”

“Don’t you know? She is the heir – the ONLY-SURVIVING GREAT-GRAND NIECE of Lord Stamford… she is one of UK’s famous socialites, that compared to Paris Hilton… she is so hot in media, and I have a crush on her – this is her first visit-here to Perthland, following our-Lord Stamford – boy when I say hot, her beauty is of-a sizzling-hot-babe – Pete, look-here!”

... Peter was distracted by Terry, pointing at page-5 – at the colour picture of a gorgeous teenager, of mixed Persian heritage, that got Terry-salivating, as he-further detailed…

“Oh-God-my-Lord, Jezebel had grown her hair long and wavy since I last-followed her, in Instagram – Pete, she looks just-like Natasha Romanoff from Iron-man 2, right?”

... Peter scoffed, and looked at the starstruck-teenager, in the passenger seat, and got cynical – as he thought of his ‘own’ failed luck with girls…

“Don’t get fooled by what’s in the bloody papers, mate – and-also – the more-beautiful-they are, the more-heartless they get!”

“Speak for yourself – THIS IS MY DREAM-GIRL, you talking-here – imagine, if I get-to marry-Jezebel, I would inherit every pound-and ounce of the wealth of the good-Lord Stamford and to be a billionaire, when-he ever passed-away, some-day – knock-on-wood.”

He saw Terry-seriously knocking on the polished wooden-panel of the glove-compartment – Peter dissed him…

“… go suck a lolly, and dream-on, mate…”

They both laughed hysterically.

The DeLorean headed to Perthland Arena. And, …

… Terry continued to read the Perthland Herald newspapers…

<>

JANE WAS RELIEVED THAT PETER was ‘not’ in class… after what he ‘did’ to her-teenaged self – she was now-terrified of his-INCUBUS METAMORPHOSIS, which she encountered last night.

Jim Hatcher was continuing on teaching his geographical-lesson, on the topic of China, where he left-off yesterday – Jane tried to use her textbook as a guide after learning-to recognize the 26-characters in the alphabets last-night, but to-read by forming it-into words, was “Greek’ to her.

Paul saw her in her-silent frustration, with occasional sighs – he bent towards her and whispered…

“Jane, Rome was ‘not’ built overnight – try listening and memorizing the lesson – we will ‘figure’ it out later tonight when I video-call you.”

The teacher caught Paul bent-over to Jane’s desk and...

... he voiced-out to the backbenchers…

“Paul Walker, keep your hanky-panky business, out-off my classroom-now!”

Immediately, the entire students in the front were eyeballing at him and Jane, at the rear – with the girls stared evil-at him, while the boys laughed-out, and a larrikin was teasing…

“Way to go, Romeo!”

… Paul flushed in embarrassment that, Jimbo-the-teacher was getting ‘even’ at him, for interrupting his class yesterday…

… this never’ happened in his-world, with teachers having low-opinions of him. Except for the History-teacher, Mr Alexander Hull who used to pick-on his twin a-lot, for his laziness of never submitting his homework. But in this-reality ‘here’ was that Paul was no-different than Peter, as a backbencher.

It was towards the end of the period, where the moment-of-truth came, where the principal’s peon-assistant Muthoo Ganesan, walked into the class and disrupted, in his East Indian accent …

“G’ day, Mister Hatcher-Sir – Principal Burnell has requested – that both Master Paul Walker and Miss Alicia Wong, to come to her office immediately.”

The same larrikin made a suspenseful-sounding soundtrack…

“Jeng-Jeng-Jeng – meanwhile – the mystery plot surrounding Stamford High’s Romeo thickens… like a Roo’s semen…”

The entire classroom burst in laughter and Paul froze in his seat as he was shocked… when he had assumed that Mrs Burnell had let him off with a warning – and not’ calling his parents to come-over, after her long Christian-morals lecture yesterday.

He saw Alicia and East Indian peon leaving the classroom – while he too rose-up to stand, from Terry’s desk, and was disorientated of thinking-the worst to ‘come.’ Jane whispered…

“… Pauly… be strong…”

Paul nodded to her encouragement, and picked-up his courage to face-the-music of guilt and shame – as he walked over to the front of the class – Charlotte Thompson dissed him…

“Burn-in hell, you Root-Rat! Molester!”

He could ‘not’ understand the ‘popular’ students-species, in his class – who were either good-in studies or sports or even both – of their dislikes of the average and the below-than average-ones, and quick to-judge and bully them…

… like this-Charlotte, who thought of herself as high and mighty in morality segregation – while the same version of herself, in his-world, was ‘not’ a virgin… as he-heard.

Paul walked out of the door… and Alicia was long-gone – and only the-peon who stood, he was talking to the mopping janitor. He approached him…

“Excuse-Mr Ganesan, are both my ‘parents’ in the principal office?”

“Yes, go now – the busy-principal is waiting.”

The East-Indian who used to be a friendly person in his-world, but ‘not’ in this world – as he was disgusted by some serious-crime had been done, to the MINORITY ASIAN COMMUNITY by the local Whites.

Paul dragged his feet and reached Mrs Burnell’s office. And, opened the door with the Principle was chatting with 2 sets of parents on the 131st celebration, happening the day-after-tomorrow. The platinum blonde was sitting alone behind, with a sour face.

The moment Paul walked in, they-all stopped talking, and ‘looked’ at him, like a criminal. His parents were the ‘most’ intimidating – as his ‘mom’ was in her Sargent-uniform, and Joe was in his work suit. Alicia’s parents were dressed-down and were casual in appearance – Robin was seated beside her real-estate-profession husband, Albert Wang.

As-Paul was the only one standing in the office-room, soon heard Principle Burnell narrating the sexual-harassment incident, that happened yesterday. She finished by saying…

“Okay-Paul, now apologize to your classmate’s parents…”

Paul turned to the 40-something years-old Chinese-gentleman, and said in a low tone…

“Sir… Ma’am, I’m truly sorry for what I did… to your-daughter… it won’t happen again…”

… Albert looked at his wife’s face and they both nodded to each other. Albert Wang spoke…

“Okay, we accept your apology.”

Then Albert turned around to his daughter and said something in Hokkien – but Alicia was disgruntled and she argued back with her father. Soon the Caucasians in the room, were in confusion, of what was going on…

… Robin stood-up from the chair, and pointed at Alicia, and firmly said…

“Ah-Girl, you go SHAKE HIS HAND NOW!”

After a moment, Alicia sighed and stood up… Paul saw her approaching, and he held out his hand to her. The Chinese girl looked at his hand and eyeballed-him – and… what transpired-next…

… was a hard-tight slap, across his face…

… Paul rocked-back by the blow. Everyone in the room looked-on horrified.

Robin shouted at her daughter in Hokkien – and both the mother-daughter were now in a brief-argument, before Alicia stormed out of the room, with Robin yelling-out…

“You come back here now!”

Now the embarrassed Chinese parents – were apologizing to the Caucasian-parents…

“I’m so very sorry, Mr Dickson! I don’t know-what had-got into her…” Said, Albert.

“Don’t apologize, Mr Wang! Paul deserves it, for ‘what’ he did…” Replied Joe.

Paul was dazed by the blow – he bled, as his teeth bit his-lip with the hard-slap from the school’s martial-art competitor who struck-him, with the bony-part of her hand. He looked at Caroline who avoided looking at him… where she had given-up ‘hope’ to both of her sons…

Mrs Burnell stood and told…

“Paul, go to the Infirmary-now – and get your ‘mouth’ looked-at.”

The teenaged nodded and before-long both the parent- too stood, and shook the principal’s hand, for holding the ‘apology’ session. Paul opened the door and left the office.

His lips sting, and so was his heart in shame, and disappointment – he decided to suck-it-up, and return to his class, and ‘not’ for-medical treatment…

“Paul!”

He turned his head, to Joe approaching…

“Where is Peter?”

“I seriously don’t know – he is ‘not’ in class either…”

<>

THE DELOREAN WAS IN ITS PATH OF the fun-filled destination, as Peter drove with Terry – who was still reading the Perthland Herald…

… suddenly Terry cried-out, in urgency…

“Pete, turn the car around – We have to GO BACK TO SCHOOL?”

What? Why…? Hell-no!”

“She is coming! Jezebel is coming to Stamford High today… it says here – SEE!!!” Terry pointed at a page’s paragraph.

“I thought the 131-celebration, is the day after tomorrow…”

“But this is unofficial visit – SHE IS ‘GOING’ THERE NOW! We must turn back, Pete!”

“But-Terr, we are almost there at Arena… now you want me to U-ie back – NO WAY!”

It was surprising for Peter, when he saw Terry-in-tears, shaking all-over, with-nervous-breakdown… and was pleading, in a sorry-state…

“Please-Peter, I need ‘this’ – turn back, I NEED TO SEE HER!”

“What’s with you? Why is ‘this’ so-bloody important?”

Terry held the driving Peter’s shoulder… look at him with teary-eyes… in a serious tone, he said…

“Pete, I have a soft-spot for Jezebel in my heart… you might-see, this is as pathetic… that I have ‘not’ hooked-up to any girlfriend, and now… this our-last year of our-schooling… so I’ve been following Jezebel in Instagram for years – I don’t care if you laugh at me… I’m in ‘love’ with her, even though it is remotely-possible… for her to love me back…”

“That is right Terry, she WON'T LOVE YOU BACK – so why bloody bother…?”

“Who am I, you may say… just a loser… but Pete-she’s MY DREAM GIRL – I need for JUST FOR ONCE, FEEL HER PRESENCE, IN PERSON, even-it is from far, at the back – please-please Peter, take me to her!”

“Snap-out of it, fool… you are no-Mr Romantic-superhero! Stop with-this sick-puppy over-achieving fantasy of yours!”

“Stop the car!”

“No!”

Terry suddenly reached-out, GRAB AND HELD the steering-wheel of the driving Peter – the speeding car nearly swerved into a near-missed accident – but Peter took-control back, and yelled at the love-sick Terry…

“What you bloody-did!!? Do you want to get us both killed? You are crazy bloody-fool!”

“STOP THE CAR! I’m serious, mate – let me-out… I want to take a taxi to school!”

“Okay, you mongrel – you want to go to that bloody-school, I bloody take you there!”

The DeLorean made a sharp U-ie turn from Wellington Street and head towards school. The annoyed Peter drove… and no amount of his-persuasion could change the adamant Terry to go to school… to meet his dream-girl…

… he has no choice but to submit, as HE WAS DEPENDANT ON TERRY’S CREDIT-FLOW for expenses – as Peter was cashless-broke…

… what would he do… alone? He CERTAINLY WOULDN’T-WANT to go home.