Spence Dogwell didn’t like his name. He didn’t like his first name, Spence, and he didn’t like his last name, Dogwell, either. Also he didn’t like his middle name, Birdwell, because it sounded too much like Dogwell.
But he couldn’t think about that right now because he had other things on his mind — namely, keeping a truck full of dynamite from slipping off the cliff and blowing up the whole town of Bagwell.
He finally made it back to the main highway. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken that treacherous cliff road, he thought, since it only saved me about five minutes.
He sped back to his suburban home and stored the boxes of dynamite in his garage. He didn’t know what he would need the dynamite for, but now at least he had some.
He called the children of the neighborhood together and told them not to go in his garage, because there was dynamite in there.