This was my last chance to pop a wheelie

This was my last chance to pop a wheelie on my motorcycle before the big Vegas show. Celine Dion

My bike slammed into a monster truck, the velocity and sudden stop caused my heart to go on to the back of a

n Arabian pony and gallop away. Or that's how it felt. What I didn't realize then, that this was exactly what happened. There I lay on the tarmac, my heart had galloped away towar

d the horizon, leaving a rather disgusting, bloody hole in my chest. Then an airplane rolled right over me on its way to the gate. I laid there, my body broken, pondering how I'd

paint landscapes with my mouth now that I was quadriplegic. The bloody hole in my chest was sending me into shock. A pack of wolves were circling and heavy snow started to fall

on the horizon. "There is something I want to show you," said a man brandishing a VHS cartridge. Cronenberg approached and shoved the tape into my wound. The wolves began to speak.

The wolves were having a cordial dinner conversation in Canadian. I couldn't understand the words. I couldn't understand why Cronenberg wanted me to see, or how my wound played VHS

it was then the the veil of ignorance shrouding my memories tore away and the words of my father came back bringing clarity. "Smell the glove, sonny boy." I nodded with purpose.

Then I slammed the glove with all my might into the face of my nemesis, who represented everyone who'd ever tormented me, all those who lied & hurt me. I raised my arms in victory!