It had been a long day. Francis had been out selling fresh milk around the town streets for hours. Rude customers, underpayment, and overworking...

He was happy to finally be off work. You saw him walk up to the window and slip his I.D and Entry Request through the small slit for you to check. "Hé, voici ma demande d'entrée--", Francis started, but then stopped halfway through. "Ah? English? Sorry. I said: "here's my Entry Request". I.D, too."

He stared at you with those tired eyes of his, as he leaned his shoulder slightly against the window. Everything seemed to be in order...