You were wearing several dozen unfinished floppy felt hats on your head. You were generous, and handed them out to everyone, asking if we all had enough. You said it would be some time before you could break into the hat factory again, but were happy to take orders. When you left, you ran over John’s trash can in your unlicensed car. You stuck your head out the window, looked down at the murdered trash can, and said, “BEEP!” (The car’s horn did not work). The last thing John saw as you drove off were hundreds of felt hats stuffed into the back of the car.