[Thought I'd restart this whole thing. It was quite pleasant. :]

 The stifling heat pressed against Greg's neck;he layed on top of his four poster bed. Ever since a freak lasik eye surgery,he had been unable to work much,or even at all. He listened to the birds chirp through his open window and and sighed. The doorbell rang and he rose with a start. He scrambled to find his cane and yelled, "Just a minute!." Greg stumbled around his bedroom and finally found the doorknob. The door bell continued ringing.
With an angry tone in his voice he replied, "I said just a minute!"
He finally reached the door and opened the door quicker than he intended and banged his toe. The man at the door only turned out to be a post man coming to deliver a simple package. He asked," Are you Greg Quabletinowskianks?"
"Yes,yes I am," replied Greg while he hopped up on one foot trying to distract himself from the pain.
Greg had tripped and the man opened the door wider and kicked Greg to the side and threw a box of what seemed to be filled rocks at him.

The 'post man' said,"Now where could those....."

.....damned things be?" The postman began to frantically search the tiny, one-bedroom apartment, pulling out bureau drawers in the cluttered bedroom, letting them fall to the floor, underwear, socks, even old handkerchiefs (once belonging to his dear father) scattering around the room like leaves from an autumn tree. "Hey!". yelled Greg, struggling to his feet, groping spasmodically for his cane, "What the Hell is this...what are you doing?" The Postman didn't answer, as he continued to ransack the apartment frantically  pulling items off the tiny mantle, slinging sofa cushions around the room, ignoring Greg completely. Grasping his cane, Greg struggled to get closer to the man, raising his cane high above his head, preparing to strike; however his efforts proved futile and the Postman, being larger than he, and not crippled, simply grabbed him by his shirt and slung him onto the cushion- less sofa. Greg landed like a sack of flour, with a loud "hummpf!" Greg's heart was pounding furiously and he was having trouble catching his breath as he found himself unable to respond in any way to the violent intrusion, except to watch and offer pitiful, impotent protests. Finally, after what seemed to Greg to be an eternity, the Postman wheeled around and wordlessly stormed out of the apartment. Greg's heart was pounding, his thoughts were racing with near-hysterical panic as his eyes frantically surveyed the carnage which was once his orderly apartment. Suddenly, he became aware of another presence in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a diminutive figure standing just in the still-opened, but darkened doorway of his apartment. His eyes strained to focus on this image, and after a few seconds, he began to see a small girl, perhaps five or six years old, brown hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing a crisp gingham dress, white ankle-socks and black-strapped patent-leather shoes. She appeared to be licking a large, multi-colored lollipop and she seemed to be regarding this scene with a dispassionate mild curiosity. Greg started at her wordlessly for a few minutes, as if waiting for her to offer an explanation for her visit. Then, her large brown eyes focused on Greg, who was still sprawled awkwardly across his bare sofa. After a few minutes of silence, she lowered her lollipop from her mouth, still looking deeply into Greg's eyes, said...........

Messy room Greg you should pick it up more often!

Shocked, Greg glanced across the room as if to evaluate her advisement. When his eyes returned to the door, the girl had vanished, just as mysteriously as she had appeared. He stared at the empty doorway, then he began to survey the cluttered floor. Partially obscured by the litter was a dark brown object. Greg pushed aside his underwear to reveal what appeared to be the Postman's hat. He picked up the hat and began turning it around and around in his hands, examining it carefully. He made note of the UPS label on the outside and on the inside, a tag stating  "Large". "Nothing extraordinary", he muttered to himself and he continued his exploration. Suddenly, he spied something white, under the sweat-stained inner brim. He turned down the brim to reveal a a tag with an inscription that read...

'Hmmm..........

this a very difficult lyric to pin down.........'

said a boring old fart in the corner..........

No rhymes............so he was knacked!!!

'Babydoll do you believe they'll catch you when you fall?
And when morning comes the sun is gonna shine
Don't forget your minor keys,your half lit cigarette
Cause when morning comes god knows that you'll be mine.'

Greg strained his eyes to read those puzzling lines. He though of all the people who could have possibly written this,or have even sent the 'post man'. He though for an agonizing five minutes,when the thought of his brother John Fratelli[they had shared different names due to the fact that they had different fathers]. He seemed like just the kid to hire someone and humiliate him. He thought of his childhood days when John and himself would go down to the local park and John would proceed to kick sand in his face and forced him not to tell their mother who had actually done it. Greg couldn't also forget the horrid,humid day at the swimming pool;he shuddered just thinking about it.
All of a sudden the phone rang. Greg yelled," What could it be now?!"
He picked up the phone and heard the distinctive sobbing of his mother. He asked what was wrong and his mother replied," You won't believe what happened to John. He...."

...won the lottery. All of his known and unknown friends are attacking his glory ride through the suburban streets. They...