Now that Wilbur felt confident with his physique, he couldn't wait to go on the cruise. He went shopping for flip-flops, a new bathing suit and other deckwear. He got SPF 45 sunscreen for his bill, which always burns and never tans. He lined up all of his luggage next to his door a week before he had to leave for the cruise, which departed from Miami. Every day he glanced at the luggage on his way out the door to work and mentally checked that he had everything he would need. Wilbur was tremendously eager to get away from his humdrum routine. Finally the day came. The taxi arrived outside his house to take him to the airport. Wilbur headed outside, carefully making sure his door was securely locked. He hadn't made it to the bottom of his stoop when Wilbur slipped on a patch of ice. His bags flew every which way as he desperately grasped for the railing. His flailings were in vain, however. In the blink of an eye, Wilbur was on his back on the sidewalk, unmoving.