Mike and I are at the gym, getting our fitness on. It's becoming beach weather, and we can't go to the beach looking like Jenny Moist's face, all round and puffy, now can we? No, the answer is that we cannot. Mike is on the bench doing some presses, and like a good spotter, I'm off to the side curling two toasters. I know what you're thinking, why two toasters? Because I have two hands, and need to work both arms at once, or one will get bigger than the other, and I'll look like a weird fish monster or something. Human arms are the way to go for me. Mike's got a solid two cheerios on the bar, and he's looking good. Just laying there, looking all dragonlike and muscly. There's a girl over in the electronics department who keeps looking at Mike to see what he's up to, and I know that means he's a certified stud. Naturally, I'm jealous, cause holding walls up is my dream job. I try not to be too jealous, and focus instead on my toaster curling.

Some guy in not gym clothes comes up to me and stares me up and down. I keep curling while making eye contact.

"Why are you curling toasters in here, sir?"

Why does he think I'm curling toasters here?

"A better question is why are you not wearing purple shoes?"

He steps back, and we both look down at his shoes to verify that they are, in fact, brown. Brown is not purple, so I'm correct. We both look back up and lock eyes again.

"What?"

"Everyone knows Purple is en vogue this season, and you're not looking like Madonna. Now, get out of the way, you're blocking my mirror."

He looks back at his shoes, and then at me, then he turns and looks at what's behind him, and back to me.

"There's not a mirror behind me. There's a mannequin, it's modeling an outfit. But there's no mirror."

"You stole the mirror? Why did you do that?"

I still haven't stopped curling toasters.

"What mirror are you on about?"

"Oh, so now I'm a liar? Is it because I'm black?"

He is flabbergasted, a lets out an audible sigh of confusion.

"What are you even on about? I can't see if you're black or not, you're covered from head to toe. And I'm black!"

"So now I'm a liar? Mike, get your coat, we're leaving!"

I throw the toasters down, and walk over to collect Mike. He's worked hard on his fitness, but this guy just had to go and ruin the rest of the day for him. I hope he feels shame. Mike crawls up my arm, and curls up on my shoulders. We walk out of the Belk in disgust, slapping the mannequin over as we do.

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"Look, Jamie Moist, I have to tell you something important. You're my mother. Yeah, I know, it's hard to understand. But I come from the future to fuck your shit up because you grounded me once when I was in my senior of high school. Think about it, I'm woefully inept, I'm a habitual liar, I'm so stupid I make Peter Gilmour look smart by comparison, my only friend is nonhuman, and I don't even know my real name. All of those are traits you also possess. Can you imagine it? Meeting your child from the future as they're all growed up and already more successful than you ever could hope to be?

Of course, I could be making that up as well. But the truth is, that those similarities are hard to ignore, unless you add in the fact that unlike you, I'm actually successful, and I didn't lose a match to Calypso, and I actually stand a chance of holding onto my title for longer than you'll hold yours. And come next warfare, I'm winning my shot to face you. Of course, that's getting ahead of myself, since I'll be beating your ass using Miss Fortune as a weapon tomorrow night. And there's absolutely nothing you could do to stop me. You know why? Because you're useless. Jesus, you make Finn look qualified to be in the ring. You make Drezdin look good. Fuck you for that."