kiruppert: I found cookies in my car last night. From Friday. I hope they're still good.
KI: They look okay.
KI: I ate a cookie. If I die tonight, I know they went bad.
Me: I'll know what to write on your behalf.
KI: If I die, you must tell my tale.
KI: Feel free to dress it up as much as you like. Don't forget the army of ninjas that I had to fight while they were planting the spoiled cookies
Me: I shall do so. As a rock musical. With bullhorns instead of microphones. And dry ice. And an audience-participation component involving a choose-your-own third act whereupon you either slaughter the Yamato, the giant race of native Japanese supermen (which is why present-day Japan is populated by short people and has not taken over the world), or you discover cures for cancer, diabetes, world hunger, AIDS, and Regis Philbin, but Chuck Norris steals them all, because he's Chuck Norris and he can.
KI: *Dies happy, knowing he has been avenged* X.X