Jean-Franois came up from the cellar with one of the most expensive wines in the world. The label was a bit tattered. He plucked away a few strands of spider web, blew away some dust and read aloud with feeling: Romane-Conti, 1990. A tear rolled down his cheek. He took a few steps towards the window to better appreciate the ruby reds shimmering with purples throughout the precious beverage when he inadvertently stepped on the tail of the cat sleeping peacefully near the balcony. The man was so startled by the animals painfilled shriek that the bottle slipped out of his hands. From that point on everything happened as though in slow-motion: the wine spun through the air, Jean-Franois dove to catch the coveted elixir, and when his head bumped the Louis XV commode two of his teeth were jettisoned towards the ceiling Luckily, he managed to intercept the bottle in extremis. A wide smile brightened his rather craggy face: he had avoided a catastrophe.