That last joyous event felt strangely familiar, so let's agree never to do that again. We should focus on something with a lower fatality potentials, like romps through flowers or embroidery.

Also, America? Next time I see you I'm going to knock you back into 1908. Jerk.

Ow ow ow. Stupid bed collapsed on me and smashed my hands up. And almost the rest of me. They better not be broken. If anyone really was under there I hope you're concussed right now.

It looks like the fireworks are over, huh? Good, I'm tired of feeling like I'm on that train again. But...would someone maybe mind checking my closet, just in case?