. N e l s o n L i m m e s .
A partly cloudy sunrise accompanied by a gentle breeze; it was a fine day for a relaxing breakfast-picnic. The grass swayed slightly and the trees rustled, eliciting forth the gentle coos of various birds and wildlife. The air was fresh and clean, the day was young, and the weather was perfect. So early in the morning, the park was nearly empty save for a lonesome homeless man sleeping on a park bench and a few early morning joggers running their course around the fields.
Dr. Nelson Limmes filled his lungs with air and released a long, drawn out sigh of contentment. Decorating his figure was a neatly creased and ironed pair of khaki pants, a yellow and white pinstriped dress shirt, and a sky blue tie neatly encircling his long, thin neck. His hair, golden and somewhat long for a professional of his status, stayed put, unaffected by the breeze thanks to the excessive amount of gel confining it to its shape. The tall, thin, sharp-angled man scanned the grassy park with blue-grey eyes for the perfect place to set up his peaceful picnic.
It only took a minute for him to select a perfect area - appropriately spaced away from the joggers’ trail and also not too close to the poultry-filled trees (any accidents would certainly ruin his day in a moment) - and stepped forth with polished brown dress shoes to approach the designated spot, a picnic basket in one hand and blanket in the other.