"If I don't come back, light a candle for

"If I don't come back, light a candle for me," I said brusquely. Her eyes glistened and her chin trembled as I tightened my suspenders. This was certainly going to be

enlightening, I thought to myself. Never in the history of mankind had a monk travelled to the dark galaxy and beyond in nothing but trousers and suspenders. I closed my eyes and

my ego and float free. So I hired a contract killer who specialised in ego assassination and the annihilation of selfhood. She was a small bird in the form of a skylark and hovered

near your bedroom window waiting for you to fall asleep. The bird (aka ego assassinator, contract killer) would then fly in through the chimney, and into your room. It deposited

half-digested insecurities and failed ambitions from its beak into your open mouth. You woke with a cold sweat and a large feeling of inferiority. I'm a failed superhero, you tell

Smitty, your loyal yellow labrador retreiver. He raises his head and cocks it to the left, looking at you with a solemn stare of concern and sympathy. I must redeem my superhero

Smitty ran to the fortress of Solitude, and scratched at Krypto's quarters. Krypto, the very confused dog opened the door, and grew even more confused with the Labrodor.

Smitty, the Labrador, spoke to Krypto with the ESP that only a gifted canine knows. He had traveled to the fortress of Solitude with one message: "Snausages?"

Krypto looked deep into Smitty's soulful brown eyes. Could Smitty be trusted? Sharing Snausages could mean they might both get a new leash on life. He could. They did.