Preston excused himself for a bit, and took a walk. He had been through a lot, but he had a ton of energy from his recent success. He remembered his piano! It had probably been delivered!

His walk became a run, and then soon became a series of jumps as he made his way downtown. People passed him, and he was homebound.

He skidded to a stop outside a shop window, where they were selling action figures from the brand new movie, Schindler's list. Preston was a bit of a collector, and he saw that they had the one that he was missing, Helen Hirsch. He turned to run in the door when he saw Juice, whose name had come up again.

POW! Juice kicked him in the crotch so hard he crashed through the second floor window, above the shop.

"Ha HA!" yelled Juice. "Right in the Funky Cold Medina! Nobody messes with Tone Loc! I mean 'Juice'! Buy my album!" Juice ran off.

Preston was curled in a ball on the floor of the room above the shop.

"Ow! My parts!" he moaned in pain.

"Who's there?" came a voice through the door.

Preston looked around in terror. He was in the shop's storeroom, and there was a lot of expensive movie memorabilia around him. If he got caught in here, it could be curtains for him!

The door burst open, and a man appeared, escorted by two policemen.

"That's him, officers! The punk that broke into my shop! He's robbing me right now, probably!"

Preston got whacked with a police baton, handcuffed, and taken straight to court.

"Didn't even bother to wear a suit today?" bellowed the judge. "Insolence! I declare you bankrupt!"

So Preston was taken to debtor's prison, and thrown into a debtor's cell. That night, he cried, because his life was over. This was going on his permanent record for sure! He was going to have to become a drifter!

Preston drifted off to sleep, showing impressive follow through. In his dream, he was sitting at a cafe, talking to his best friend, Henry. They talked about kid stuff, like bugs, and sandwiches, and the economy. Then, the conversation took a turn for the serious.

"Preston," said Henry. "You've got to do what you're good at. If you've got a gift, it's your responsibility to use it, right?"

"You're right!" said Preston, and woke himself up. He got out of bed, opened his cell, and went to the prison store. "One shovel, please! I'm...umm...gardening!"

"Sir, this is a children's debtor's prison. You can't possibly have any money." said the lady running the store, Jayne Atkinson, who was also in Free Willy. Preston was a bit star-struck, but he held his composure and maintained his dignity.

"But I do have money!" said Preston, triumphantly holding up a check.

Jayne's eyes turned into dollar signs, and she handed over the shovel.

Preston went back to his cell, and began to dig his way to freedom. A guard walked by to see what he was up to, but it was clearly gardening.

"You have to plant these yams nice and deep! I love me some yam!" Preston hollered up from his hole.

The bottom of the hole then collapsed into a cavern.