The whole place must be cleared and all the convalescent memories must be extinguished before either Ocean Properties or Unicorp can gain control from the flailing unit owners.
My dad repeatedly looked through the oven window waiting for the pop-up thermometer. But the more he waited, the more the home filled with an acrid and nauseating odor. I asked my father why it was so smoky. He looked like Robert Duvall walking around a bombed out landscape in Vietnam relishing the smell of turkey in the morning.