My name is Alayne, I live with a Great Dane, Duane, and my horse, a Grey, Zane, out on the plain, where the deer and antelope have lain hidden from the rain deep in the sugar cane or grazed on the grain imported from Spain, which was a great drain on my finances, straining them as well as my brain as I failed to obtain a loan from Champaign, to which I took a train, 'cause I couldn't get a plane ticket to Duquesne, where the bank on Main Street would merely refrain from giving free reign to a borrower who fain would feed the wild beasts of the plain as well as herself and Duane and Zane.