I can’t stop thinking about Pete Strodenmire’s tie. It’s Wagon Days down at the dealership, see, and Peter Strodenmire woke up that morning in good spirits. Sure, there was that business with Red to worry about, and Brad Wesley would almost certainly stop by to rub his nose in it, but Strodenmire didn’t mind. It was a beautiful morning, a fine morning, the kind of morning that makes the day seem endless with sunshine and possibilities. And here it’s Wagon Days—the most wonderful time of the year, he’d joke with Pam in the office. The good people of Jasper would flock to Strodenmire Ford for good deals, good friends, and all the free wieners they can eat. It’s enough to put a song in your heart, and for Pete Strodenmire that song was by-god the Star-Spangled Banner. Days like this made him proud to be an American, Brad Wesley be damned. And who knows—by the time this Wagon Day was over Strodenmire might be that much closer to his own American Dream, that little slice of paradise in Key Biscayne. He could picture the little driftwood sign with the house’s name in handpainted letters: BEACHY KEEN.

Yes, it was going to be a fine day. A fine, fine day.