Keith lay in his bed, curled up in his blanket. He could hear the rain outside. As a matter the pitter-patter was quite soothing. He rolled over, wrapping his blanket around even tighter. Keith didn't want to budge.

His head was a tad sore from yesterday and all the days before but luckily he had a thick skull.

The rain became heavier, but Keith still hadn't bothered to move from his bed. There was a knock at the door.

He got up out of bed wondering who it could be at this hour. Not bothering to put a shirt on he opened the door.

Elisa stood at the door. "Oh! Um, Keith," she said awkwardly. "I just came to get my scarf back, and tell you Paul McCartney has a small dick."

Keith rubbed his head."Yeah I know but why come at this hour?"

"Keith it is afternoon!"

"But it is raining," he whined.

"It wasn't before though silly!"

Keith stood there for a moment in complete silence. Shirtless, in just boxer shorts. It was still raining. The rain made the silence between the two slightly less awkward. "Yeah. Right."

Suddenly a Soviet R-7 intercontinental ballistic missile was launched right at Keith's head carrying 83.6 kilograms of soup.

It missed.

But a single can of Campbell's condensed chicken noodle soup fell from the cargo.

It did not miss.

Keith lay on his porch unconscious while Elisa rummaged for her scarf.