Chapter 1
Pausing to breathe between hurried mouthfuls of breakfast cereal, Jay Leno peered at the kitchen clock. 10pm. He'd overslept, but since he had retired from his lucrative career in comedy he had no reason to wake up at all. If anything, 10pm is triumphantly early, he thought to himself, forming a smirk briefly, only then to pummel his oesophagus with more spoonfuls of sugary milk with bits in. He was eating quickly, now not from a sense of urgency, but to meet the kinetic demands of his sugar rush which had started to make his leg shake uncontrollably.
After breakfast Jay Leno disrobed and took a shower, singing an unrecognisable rendition of "Good Morning" from "Singing in the Rain", with occasional garbled interpolations brought on by the entry of water into his mouth. "God, it's like I am singing in the rain!" He said out loud, his brain activity pausing momentarily for the laughter of an imaginary audience. You never really lose that kind of mental conditioning I guess, he pondered, turning off the shower and walking into a fresh towel. He changed into navy-coloured denim jeans and a blue shirt, and walked outside to enter his garage from the front. Jay Leno was surprised that it was dark already, and then surprised that he was surprised about that in the first place, thinking to himself, well it is already 11pm, accompanying that thought with a real, pulmonary chuckle.
The garage door raised itself slowly, like the drawbridge of a grand old castle, slowly decanting the dim orange glow of the street light outside into the garage, before the white lights inside switched themselves on. He had a fine personal collection of classic cars, even the iconic cars from a few beloved films and TV series including the Aston Martin DB5 from Goldfinger and the 1975 Ford Gran Torino from Starsky and Hutch. His most recent addition to his collection, however; was a blue and white tractor abandoned by the roadside, which, after contacting the owner (he found him via the licence plate number) who didn't want it returned to him, Jay Leno took it back home as his own. It needed a lot of work done to make it road-worthy again, but the day before he had washed it thoroughly, so it's appearance hardly relinquished that truth. Seeing it waxed and spotless in his garage forced a grin onto Jay Leno's face. He sauntered up to his tractor and kneeled at the wheels, gently tracing the interior of the tyre with his first two fingers. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and paced round the back of the vehicle, filling himself with glee after each admiring glance. he walked, with reverence around the tractor, stopping to shut his eyes and stroke the soft black leather passenger seat. Opening his eyes, he continued around the vehicle, all the way to the front, when he kneeled once more and eased himself up close to it. "I love you" he whispered before pressing his lips to its grate. At first he was only lightly touching the tractor, but before long his lips were trying to force their way through the tiny holes, and his was tongue hauling itself up and down the grate like a slug on a tomato plant. In the midst of Jay Leno's lustful and moving display he caught a glimpse of something in the corner.
What was it, a person? Was somebody watching him?
"Who's there?!" his echoes answered him. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he sounded more like he was pleading now, for the fear was draining him of any previous assertiveness he could feign. No response. "Well, I guess it was nothing." he spoke aloud as he stood up, slowly. Though convinced once more of his solitude, the experience left him feeling shaken and vulnerable, which naturally demanded a gallon of ice cream to calm his nerves...
Pausing to breathe between hurried mouthfuls of ice cream, Jay Leno peered at the kitchen clock. 11:30 pm. Time for bed.
