A furniture store in Michigan had a sign in the window. EVERYTHING MUST GO. I understood. There was an emergency. The building was being cleared. I went in. Nobody was moving anything. A man was sitting in a recliner, eating a sandwich. A samurai does not stand still during an evacuation. I picked up a lamp and carried it to the parking lot. Then a side table. Then a recliner, which I carried on my back like a turtle. A salesman came out. "Sir. Sir. It's a sale." I said the sign said everything. "It's an expression." I said I had read it four times and it did not say expression. He thought about that. Then he held the door. I moved fourteen recliners. Two men from the loading dock came out and helped, because, one of them said, "He's not wrong." The man with the sandwich finished it and moved a coffee table. The manager gave me a hat and a discount card. I bought nothing. I do not need furniture. I needed the sign to be true. The next morning the sign said EVERYTHING MUST GO (SALE). In marker. In the corner. I consider this a victory for both of us.