This is a story about a man.
This man was very, very bad at dodgeball.
He was the only one out all the time. And his school played dodgeball every single day.

One day he got hit in the face.

Again.

And this time, he lost his memory (like he did two months ago).
He went on a rampage, saying, “There’s a banana stuck in my ear!”

The next day, he got a phone call.
The voice on the other end: “Hello, this is your toast.”
He looked at his phone in confusion. “My what?”
“Your toast,” it replied, rather annoyed. “You can pick me up at The Toaster.”
So the man drove to the local nightclub called The Toaster. He picked up his newfound friend named Toast.
They both drove to a dark alley.
There the man revealed his secret identity: He was…
dramatic music
The Toast Turminator.
Then they both turned, and released all their brown, flowing hair, and in slow motion skipped merrily into the sunset.

(With a flock of chickens chasing them.)