A misanthrope, iconoclast and general grouch since the late 1980s, Daniel P. Finney mans the lonely outpost of night police reporter in the decidedly not crime-ridden capital city of Iowa. He winnows away his nights following the chicanery of low-rent thugs, nitwits and other dopes who pass for criminals. He sleeps through most of his days. The highlights of his week are Sunday chicken wings, new comics Wednesday and naps during televised sporting events. He does not wonder if there is a player to be named later in his life and spends most of his waking hours desperately trying to be left alone.