Let me tell you a story and learn you a lesson. Two things that I'll give you but it is not for free. First I need you to read the story and after I provide you with message I need you to carry it.

Here we go.

In the old times when I was youngster, I lived on the top of the hill near the great blue sea. Every morning, before anything, I would go out in my garden where I kept bees. Each time I'd count each and every one of them before proceeding to other tasks. This special morning I counted them three times and each time I'd lack one in my final count. Finally, one of the bees said:
-It is Paul. He has been out since last night. Didn't return.

Now I want you to stop in your thought. You are assuming the worst don't you? You think that the poor bee called Paul is dead. Keep reading.

After I gasped I headed over to the stable in which I never kept horses but roosters. So I saddled one of my strongest roosters called Chu and headed over to the police station to file a missing report. Chu was flying that day, we came fast but it was all for nothing. Procedures. Wait. At least 24 hours.

It was all me and Chu in front of that police station, smoking cigarettes deciding our path. Couldn't leave Paul. Not in this situation. He was a troublesome bee, falling astray, wasting himself each night in pubs in the valley. I had to find him teach him a lesson.

So we headed south, me and Chu. Clint's style, tension and all. We crossed over seven deserts, seven mountains and and when we came before the seventh sea I saw a field. And a lot of men rounded in a circle, cheering;
-Get him! KILL HIM!
Stressed, I wanted to cry;
-PAUL!
But I didn't. It is pathetic. Nevertheless, I wanted to do it. To do it and not do it. I wanted to be able to pick and live through both ways but I picked the way that didn't expose me to much to my animal servant Chu.
Anyway, my worst nightmares, that were mostly facing those men to get Paul, came true. But I got him with magic paper.

. . .