Mort didn't wake up until late in the afternoon of the following day. By then Iris had tied him to the bed.
She made him sandwiches, and opened the window to let in some fresh air.
"Hello Sweetheart," she said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Let me go," he said, tugging at his restraints.
"But you tried to kill me," Iris said; she was still a little upset about the whole thing.
"And I'll fucking do it again it you don't untie me," he grinned manically.
"Oh Mort, why don't you just calm down? Look, I brought your laptop in here so you can get some work done."
She pointed to where she had put it on the bed, next to him.
"How am I gonna type if my fucking hands are tied up?" He said, the manic smile still on his lips.
"Well, you say it out loud and I'll type it for you," she said.
She settled on the edge of the bed, and when she had given Mort a bite of one of the sandwiches, she switched on the computer and opened a new document.
"Come on," she said. "How does the story begin?"
Mort pushed his head back against his pillow. His eyes roamed across the ceiling as if the words were written there, waiting to be spoken aloud. He glanced at her, pressed his lips together; thinking.
"Okay," he said, after some time. "I've got it. Iris held the copy of 'Everybody Drops The Dime' close to her chest, as she walked along the country lane."