stood up, shuffled to the front of his cell, and tried to take
out his frustration by rattling the bars. There was only one
problem--they were stuck firmly in the concrete floor below and
the concrete ceiling above, and didn't budge. Muttering something derogatory toward the guard, Joe put his head
down between his outstretched arms and hung for a moment,
balancing on his tip-toes and rocking back and forth. Something
was wrong with his shoes-the laces were gone! And so was his
belt, his wallet, and the keys to his Miatta convertible.