-Morgan, passed out, half naked, living the dream-<br/><br/>He stood in sun god flowing robes atop a ziggurat in an ancient land. He was adorned in heavy hand beaten plates of gold atop the finest cotton hauberk. Atop his head was a crown bearing the sign of the sun go himself. Around him were hundreds, nay, thousands of people knelt in obeisance as his hand picked coterie of virgins through smallish pickles at him....<br/><br/>Morgan woke with a start, spitting and looking wildly about. He hated pickles with a passion. He rolled to a sitting position under the force of his own will alone, his stomach having been left several floors down in the stairwell. He cradled his head and stared out through slightly spread fingers, well, at least he was still mostly dressed.<br/><br/>The hallway he sat in connected the stairwell to the elevators, pronounced his life on display with the wall sized calender, and gave all those who trespassed a warning. Brain bleach may be needed, and was in fact, Doctor approved.<br/><br/>-More adding soon -