He's out there, a lone figure huddled against a cold freezing drizzly Ohio wind, wandering back and forth... lost to the warmth of all who love him, in the flatland of Ohio's roadways... searching for the poor creatures about to be desecrated by forestry students infiltrating from the wilds of Pennsylvania. He has encountered their work before! "Forestry students! Geeziz, why do they have to come to Ohio of all places? There are no forests to speak of, only mile after mile of our precious possums."

He sees a faint bulge up ahead and could it be? Sadly, yes, another possum has met its maker and although this one has not been further humiliated with paint, it is soon to be in hot water.

Lovingly he picks it up, cradling it against his chest, grieving for a world that should understand the loveliness of the possum. "Why," he muses, "couldn't the possum have been named an endangered species and protected in a possum preserve? Is there no mercy, no justice, no sense to be had in Ohio?"

Once again, as in many difficult past moments, he turns to his old friend Cleigh for answers. There is only one thing that can relieve his restles sorrow. Hoping to remember happier times past, he......

But no. CLEIGH IS NOT THERE. He has been dropped along the road! Oh no! Where? WHEN? Searching frantically, he retraces the night's steps. It had been a long night, many, many steps. "Cleigh... here CL-CL-CL-CLeigh... why won't you answer me?!" Panic rises as he realizes ther is not enough wind for Cleigh to answer for himself, no matter how desperate his straits. "What if he's been picked up by a dog? What if he's been run over by a Mack truck [screaming out of Pennsylvania carrying Pennsyvania Dutch keepsakes to brighten Ohio homes]?" What if-- OH NO-- what if the *&)*&%(&)&*(*)&)((*)$ FORESTRY STUDENTS have him???!!!???

Murderously he glares through the cold rain changing to snow changing to wintry mix, longing for the spring with Cleigh pulled close to be nuzzled and blown. Viciously, grimly, he stalks down the road, still looking, hope not entirely abandoned...

As a Forestry Department truck passes him, PA plates glinting in the pale drear of the day, screams and howls AND ANOTHER SOUND HE'S HEARD BEFORE issuing forth as it passes then fading as it arrows straight for the Ohio horizon. They have Cleigh. He's OK, but he's fallen into their clutches. He knows what he must do.

Later, back at the Forestry, terrible things are about to be done to Cleigh. They've nosed out his secrets, and they're drinking now. They start the stew pot but cannot resist applying themselves to the effort of making music with poor Cleigh's frozen, oddly misshapen brethren. "It'll work fine till they thaw!" gloats one. A possum polonaise in Pennsylvania, yet evil nonetheless!

In bursts Spaw, who has been brought by a sympathetic Mack trucker. ("You should see what they do to dogs, said he to Spaw when he told his tale.")

They....