Charlie wasnΓÇÖt what he himself would call happy, but he had a stable job, so he wouldnΓÇÖt complain. And honestly, ten-hour days werenΓÇÖt all that bad. What else would he spend his time on, otherwise? So, he was fully expecting to continue his career, in one form or another, until retirement. Then he died. In his own home, in his own bed. Only afterwards, now with far more arms and a strange relationship with gravity, did he start panicking. Not quite alive again and in a place heΓÇÖs neve...