The bed creaked and groaned as Daniel Green, a perfect specimen of a twenty year-old computer technician, relieved it of his sizable bulk. Scratching the hole-ridden black briefs that he wore, he stumbled over towards the wardrobe while simultaneously shielding his cold-blue eyes from the sun. The white door was slid open to reveal its treasures, Daniel’s hand skipping the neatly arranged Iron Maiden, Metallica and Korn band shirts hanging on hangers to head straight for a brown-and-yellow vertically-striped button-up business shirt.