“Little Miss Fussy won’t eat her breakfast this morning, will she?” her father mocked her cruelly. Pammy didn’t care if oatmeal was his favorite, and she didn’t give a rip if it was given to him as a little monkey child by his loving mother on a cold winter morning. This stuff tasted like crap. She was going to get him back. She was going to get even. But how? When would be the right time? What was a seven-year-old suppose to do? She figured she would hit him where it hurts…in the wallet. As soon as he walked out the door, she called the bank and transferred all his money to a Swiss bank account, cancelled all his credits cards, and wrote a big check to save the whales. Then she ordered a limo to pick her up and she asked to be driven to the best Chinese restaurant in town where she ordered a nice plate of Moo Goo Gai Pan and a glass of cabernet. The alarm clock woke her up and she gave her doll a big hug.