"I need this bottle of Jagermeister. I can't pay for it because my wallet is in my space shuttle. But believe me. I really need this bad. The fate of the world depends upon it. No. This isn't my dog. He must have wandered in here or something. That is totally unrelated. Just give me the goddamn liquor, lady. No. I'm not dressed like a clown. I AM a clown. This is the way I naturally look. I don't have time to lay it all out for you right now. Let's just say that someone really really bad is on his way. He will kill ME and enslave YOU unless you give me this bottle of booze. NO! It's seriously NOT my dog. I have no idea about that."
"I can't possibly beat you, Steve, I realize that now. Allow a condemned man have one last drink, OK? But I never drink alone. How about we share a shot of your favorite drink? I just happen to have a bottle of it right here."
"This is acceptable. One last drink and then I get to kill you. It is agreed."
"Aaah. The simple pleasures of getting sloshed off of Jagermeister."
Ronald quickly flies Steve to his laboratory on the moon. There, him and his team of skilled prefossionals carefully remove the robot parts in an attempt to restore Steve's humanity.
|Will Steve survive this delicate operation? To build more drama, put on some suspenseful music and wait uncomfortabley long before clicking on PAGE 9 to see the shocking conclusion to our story.|