"I woke up here without the courtesy of still having my own underwear," he replied with a tired snort, putting the bottle aside once he was satisfied with the size of the bright red puddle. "I don't have my phone, my wallet . . . anything. Anyway, I'm supposed to be Herb Appleby. Letting me keep anything from my wallet would contradict that."

Fries were still fries, at least, he reflected, working at his lunch steadily. Some things, at least, stayed the same. "Do you have any ideas for making money?"