That night you sleep out under the stars. A noble hobo comes by each tent in the morning to give each renter the two hours left warning and a shot of rotgut wine. Things are different today. President Rick Cheeney has declared the poor sub-human and passed a cast cleansing bill. This is the first place hit. Fighter planes swoop out of the sky and drop cluster bombs on the poor elite district. You are blown apart in your sleep, interupting a sweet dream.
The End