I remember, a few years back, before all

I remember, a few years back, before all this drama, a certain family picnic. It was before Dad was the most wanted criminal alive, Mom was on the run for safety, and I, inocent me

became stuck in this fractured universe, the picnic took place in toronto and it happened when i was 3

inches tall and seeking for love in all the worst places, such as choosing the wrong buttcrack to crawl into. All that hair should've been a sign. Nowadays I'm 7

feet tall and whack my head on almost every door frame I walk through. Still, it's better than the old days of getting lost in tangles of hair. Now even the NBA wants to sign me!

To feel the crowd's excitement coursing through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest.

I looked around, trying to find my contact. I wasn't sure if he was here but I knew that I couldn't leave this place with the item still on me.

"Hey are you that guy that I'm supposed to meet to give his final orders for his undercover assignment?" "Why are you yelling?" "Because the music is so loud." "There isn't any mus

-cle relaxant left," I told him, "I took it all." "You selfish twit," he yelled, "just for that I'm not giving you your final orders!" He stormed away from me, but all I could do

in my life was follow orders. I flopped about spaghetti-like, luxuriating in my newfound found freedom to be spineless, and let the story peter out like a limp...