From the time Charlie was a little kid he wanted to drive a street car. He dreamed about it, talked about, had pictures of street cars in his room, read books about them, everything in Charlie's world was street cars. On his 21st birthday, Charlie went down to the public works department and took the driver's exam. He flunked. So Charlie spent the next six months studying night and day to pass the exam. He flunked again. Now Charlie was desperate. If he failed the exam a third time, that was it, he could never be a street car driver. So Charlie studied all the more. He read every manual over and over. He memorized the routes, knew all the rules. Yet on his third try he flunked for good. Charlie was heart broken. He wandered the streets in anguish.
Then, one day Charlie saw a driver hop off the street car to fetch a soda. Charlie thought "Here is my chance". Charlie jumped in the driver's seat and took off. Charlie was in heaven, he was driving a street car! He laughed aloud in absolute joy. He slammed into a crowd of pedestrians, killing fourteen. The police lead him away in cuffs as he screamed that it wasn't his fault.
Charlie was found guilty of fourteen counts of negligent homicide and sentenced to death. On the day of his execution Charlie, still pleading his innocence, was strapped into the electric chair, and the switch was thrown. The power surged yet nothing happened to Charlie. The warden came forth and told Charlie that he was free to go. Under the rules of the state, if an execution failed the prisoner was freed. Charlie broke down in utter despair, sobbing and cursing his fate. The warden, puzzled to say the least, asked Charlie why he was so sad. Charlie replied "I just realized that I really am a bad conductor."