When live gives you lemons, you make lemonade,

When live gives you lemons, you make lemonade, that's the obvious answer. But when...

Your dating website sends you pictures of your stalker... Well... Things get much more complicated.

“Drinkth thou not thy ade o'lemon!” cried the CIA agent, “But instead cometh with me at once.” He lead me into a strange machine, inside of which were dials marking years, months

, ages, and eons. " I know not how the contraption is employed," said the CIA agent, "but I could tell by your garb that thou might be in possession of a clue." I shrugged and spun

on my chair until I passed out. When I came to, I was being helped out of a cryo chamber by some weak humanoid. "Welcome to the year 6487" it said,

and then scurried away as another humanoid approached. One clearly of a higher status than the one that scurried away. "Welcome to the year 6487, Specimen One.' I flinched at that

title, but I couldn't remember my name. "Thank you for the welcome, Specimen Two," I joked. The humanoid took no pleasure in my wit. It led me through a quadratic forest of beans

and rice (cilantro lime, if you were wondering) until we arrived at a laboratory. A slat in the door creaked open and a trio of eyes materialized within the darkness, peering

at us like a mutated fish near a nuclear power plant. "Go away! We don't want any of your goddamn rice!" And so we reluctantly moved on to peddle our wares at the next house over.