When Amos awoke he felt the bitter cold nipping at his extremities. Non-pleasurable shivers ran up his body; mini-convulsions dictating that his body's frigidity would be eradicated if he exercised patience.
So Amos waited.
He closed his eyes as instinct guided his body's mass into the form of a crude ball. Recessing deep into his makeshift world, Amos's vengeful thoughts turned to preparations for his next move.
"I'll show you," he thought as his mind's eye cast a comforting image of a red plastic bucket stationed helplessly under a noose as the town's folk rubbed their hands in anticipation of a fitting end to its cowardly ways.
The sun did rise again that morning but Amos's appreciation of warmth, comfort and rest ensured that the red plastic bucket was free from harm.