Once upon a time there was a guy.  He was all mixed up.  His life was an avalanching ball of **** that was about to roll him over.  

Scottie Rackman was his name.  

He sat in his car, letting the world slip in through his eyes.  It didn't look right.  Not because of his eyes.  He eyes were a perfect twenty-twenty.  The doctor actually told him that he had "pilot's vision".  "Whoopty- **** - Doo", was the thought that crossed through Scottie's mind.  Good eyes.  Bad mind.

The world came in through his windshield, entered his eyes, kicked around in his brain and came out as a dead end catwalk of dead end dreams. 

He took a swig of rum and lit a cigarette.