
So I walked out of Menards and into this like "mission control" place where I had to use my hand print for security clearance and when I got inside I realized that it was my office and There was this futon up against the wall, and I pulled it away from the wall and I saw that the frame had left a circle mark on the wall behind it the exact same size as the circle cutout on my leg and I was like "oh yeah" as I recalled having sex with a secret service guy on the futon and figured I must have cut my leg. (don't ask, I don't understand it myself)
And then I decided it was time to work since I had suddenly different clothes on, like a


So as I was doing all this, I started to realize that all I had on were gloves and it seemed strange that I would be handling plutonium with just these gloves and how could that be safe and I had just itched my nose and wasn't I like CONTAMINATED and THEN I realized that the mark on my leg was the same size as the plutonium cylinders and THAT is where I must have gotten the injury. So as soon as I realized it, my boyfriend (okay, it wasn't the secret service guy. It MIGHT have been Evan, but at this point my mind was racing about plutonium- I figure I must have been a whore because it was like suddenly a james bond feeling, and you know there has to be a bon

So we stole the secret service guy's car (outside the submarine) while he was ordering a hot dog from the hot dog stand (also outside the submarine) and we raced to the president's house (which wasn't really the white house) and when we got inside the president (Jack Nicholson) and his wife (Glenn Close) were eating on TV Trays (Do you see a Mars Attacks thing going on here?) and as I was trying to tell them that the government has people like me handling plutonium without the proper precautions, the Secret service guy who we stole the car from (and who I think I had sex with on the futon) came running in and tried to stop us and then I woke up.
Yeah. Eat some more Tacos.
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