Remember that day when I had to go back in time to save Robert Plant?

Sure you do. I was telling you about it last night over Eggos. That was the day it happened. Last night. I was late coming back. You wanted to know what took me so long to get a gallon of milk and some syrup. And I said, “hey you're not going to believe this, but guess what happened...”

Remember?

Anyway, that was how I got this scar too. When I went back in time to save Robert Plant from assassination by a vicious cyborg organism, I got a little banged up.

It’s not a “little bruise”. It’s a scar.

FYI: this also explains the chocolates and postcards I’ll be getting from Robert Plant from time to time. I saved his ass (and all of rock and roll’s ass as well).

Yes, I’m getting to the point.

So I guess I’m just wondering why you don’t seem to think it’s at all cool. I mean, I thought you’d be all, “Oh my God – I can’t believe you traveled back in time, slaughtered evil robot killers, saved the lead singer of Led Zepplin, traveled forward in time, and still remembered to bring home the syrup.”

I know, I forgot the milk. Sorry.

That's kind of my point, though. You’re all, "Where's the milk?" and “take out the trash,” and, “Get a job.” You know, once you save Robert Plant from an evil, cyborg assassin, working at the Circle K is a bit dull.

Who DOES a man have to save to get any appreciation around here?

No, no. I'll change the cat litter.

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