Write the first five paragraphs of your next novel.

The advantages of being one of the many homeless in St. Petersburg is that people ignore you, they don't make eye contact, you are essentially invisible. Which helps when you are on an important mission.

My street name is Sticky. I'm not homeless, I just like to walk around downtown and help those that are. For my safety, I dress down in an old overcoat that, true to my street name, contains several different instant glue products in the various pockets. Need the sole of your sneakers glued back on? Look for Sticky. If they only knew that I am a chemical engineer who retired from the adhesive business, am quite well off and live in a penthouse condo on the waterfront with its own entrance and elevator.

The Rays baseball team is threatening to move to another location. In my other, retired, life, I move in the business world locally and know that the owner is secretly set to jet to Orlando to sign an agreement to move the team there. He is scheduled to leave the office at 10 a.m. to catch his business jet. Since I believe they should adhere to the contract they have with the city and not stick the taxpayers with any more liabilities than we already stupidly have assumed, I have taken a few steps to insure he misses that flight and his deadline to close the deal.

Overnight, thanks to one of my homeless connections, I worked as a fill-in janitor in the Rays office. I was able to leave the owner a couple little presents. One was a brownie laced with Exlax on his desk. The other? A special pressure sensitive super glue on the toilet seat and on the hand rail alongside the john.

I've been standing on the corner by the office observing. He arrived at 8:30. It is now 9:30 and, oh yes, here comes the fire rescue squad and an ambulance now!

Did I mention that I also put special glue capsules under the toilet seat so it will be firmly fastened to the porcelain base?