Early the next morning, Kris woke to see a thick blanket of snow outside the window. He rose from his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As he surveyed the yard, he thought about his encounter with the stranger the night before. He laughed it off and reminded himself that he's been working too many long hours. Kris walked over to his closet and stood undecided. Had I imagined things last night? He wasn't sure. Thinking it was all a bad dream, he swung the door open and gasped. The red suit still hung in the closet, but this time instead of only one outfit, his entire wardrobe was red. He screamed and fell backward onto the bed. He lay immobile for the longest time. Kris didn't have the strength to regain his feet. He silently reminded himself to get a grip and took a long, deep breath. He shakily stood and approached the closet.
Warily eyeing the numerous red garments, he reached out and touched the fabric. He saw a note attached to the sleeve of one coat. Carefully, he unhooked the paper and read the sloppy handwriting.
Put on the suit, already. They are all the same size. Do I need to cover your entire apartment with these clothes? Get the hint.
Your pal, Mikey.
Kris rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Who is this clown and how did he break into my apartment? Realizing there were no logical answers to these questions, he shook his head in disgust. This is totally insane. I need to go to work. I don't have time for child's games. He grabbed the same shirt and pants he wore the day before, then entered the bathroom to shower and dress. By the time he shaved the stubble from his chin and departed the steamy shower, he covered his mouth in shock. The entire bedroom was a heap of red suits. Everywhere he stepped, a plush red garment lay under foot. He walked around the red heap and entered the kitchen. To his surprise, the mounds of red suits touched the ceiling. I'm losing my mind. This isn't possible.