John Watson scowled at the ceiling, he was angry. John was angry because he knew, that down the stairs, through the main room, and across the kitchen, was the refrigerator. He knew, that in the fridge, right above the head, was the jam. John knew that next to the fridge, in the cabinet, way in the back was the bread. He knew that just under the cabinet, in its little holder, was the butter. And those three things put together was all John could think about, well … that and the reason John couldn't go through the process of getting them. Another thing John knew was that in the time it took to for downstairs, get those three things, and enjoy that heavenly combination, all of his own body heat would have left the bed. So John just lay there, tortured by the thought of the treat he could be having, and by the fact that if he did, his bed would be cold and unwelcoming when he returned. And that was the continuous thought process of John Watson until he drifted into sleep.