Freddy sneezed himself back in time.
It wasn’t by much. Just three minutes.
But still whenever he sneezed, he went back in time.
Little sniffles sent him back a few seconds.
A big blast, maybe an hour.
Whenever he caught cold, he went to Vegas.
Turning a few bucks of chips into a nice stack to cash out.
The casinos tried to prove he cheated, but their tapes showed all kinds of strange glitches and errors.
They couldn’t prove a damn thing.
So, they took him out back and shot him.
Dead men tell no tales.
And they don’t sneeze.