Gerald! Well if I had any feelings I might

Gerald! Well if I had any feelings I might regret that you have "won" the right to "star" in our heavily scripted version of your life. I'm sure you have big dreams for the future,

but there's no better way to retrace your steps than starring in a docudrama about you, Gerald." Gerald was optimistic that this could help him find his wallet. The exec's maniacal

laugh reverberated in the memory bank. Gerald downloaded his stored thoughts of the last 8 hours. By scrolling, he might find his wallet in time for the party. Parts were missing.

So he pooped on his desk in anger.

Again. Last time his secretary had cleaned it up. This time she saw it and just walked back out of his office, grabbed her stuff and left. So there he was, with the

richest kid in the world Ricky Shroder. His secretary left them alone. He didn't know how to talk to this rich kid. The kid had everything. He on the other hand, had only

a sled he'd named "Rosebud" and an idea for an epic movie. But what did it all mean?

In terms of numbers at the box office. Not much apparently. Kids had found a new craze to spend their money on. Everyone flocked to play the latest Pixie Spinning game which involv

es spinning Pixi Stix as fast as you can around and around until they explode in brightly-colored puffs of sugar and citric acid. The kid whose mom cleans it up the fastest wins.

And that's how they determine which antidepressants are most effective, by seeing which witch quits bitchin' in the kitchen 'bout exploded sugar dust & gets her tubes tied.