Oh, Mike TV, my friend in Christ, you haven’t seen wrath.  A 4.5 on the wrathometer is nothing compared to the wrath I felt when I realized the spell actually meant a billion dollars after tax!  I figured I was gonna come away from the deal with maybe forty or fifty grand, net.  The “earnings from summoning elder gods” tax makes the inheritance tax look like the “earnings from selling your collection of Snorks memorabilia at a swap meet” tax!  And I’d already requisitioned and filled out the 6805-NOT-PARTI-Q-LARLY-EZ Supernatural Income form!  But now my actual billion dollars has been hamburgled!

And I should’ve remembered the T-Rex’s susceptibility to number puzzles.  Sometimes I just feel like the elder gods are just fucking with me.

But!  Thankfully, the time I gained from distracting you with the dinosaur chase has allowed me to complete my transformable robot suit.  See, the time I’ve spent over the last few weeks watching Robotech, combined with my previous in-depth analyses of how much the Transformers movies suck, have granted me enough knowledge in the fields of robotics and transformics to make my own giant-robot-that-changes-into-stuff (some of the Robotech commentary is surprisingly in-depth).  So now I can unleash on the world my most kickass creation: A giant robot that transforms into a jet and a half-jet-half-robot and an enormous semi truck!  Which is fully half as good as a whole truck!  So if you somehow manage to withstand my barrage of missiles and lasers and stepping on things–which you won’t–I can still slow you down and inconvenience you on any freeway!  Assuming I’m not late for a delivery of fresh produce to Ralph’s, because since my billion dollars is gone, I’ve gotta pay for this somehow.

Prepare to meet your robotic doom, Mike TV!  Just after I drop off this load of nearly-edible lettuce at Carl’s Jr.

–Eric

PS: Seriously, Carl’s Jr. has the worst lettuce.