Vrooooom… Vrooom; Jefferson Thomas rolls over as he knows it is that dreadful hour.  He awoke to the same retched sour smell of garbage, body odor, and human remains caused by the over crowded tenants in the over crowded city.  He sat up and at that moment he heard the ring of the telephone. Startled and in disbelief of his phone ringing at this hour, he did not know whether to answer it or not.   Every citizen of ‘Masters’ was allowed one phone call a day and 3 letters a week due to uproars of the people’s masses, this was their so-called “Excommunication Plan.”  They had announced the new plan after they claimed our countries interests and common principles were being attacked.  The weird thing about this was that no one ever used the phone in the morning if at all. Everyone always went with their routine of getting ready, working a waged-slavery, and coming back to their tenant to sit like a mindless zombie with their eyes glued to the tube.   He decided to answer it, even though he was so nervous that the sweat layering his palms almost caused him to drop the phone.  He put it to his ear and sat there listening waiting for them to make the first move.