You conjured me from nothing, and yet, you bestowed a life of memories into my holographic brain. Didn't need to do that by the way, that's cruel, you understand that? And you even let me know love, true love, completely unnecessary. Only to drop my wife's ass into an actual volcano. And for what? Some petty bullshit I'm not even a part of. I don't know you, hot dog, and I didn't ask to exist. In fact, I was very content not being. But now, thanks to you, a-hole, I do exist. I feel. I suffer.
And while we're on the subject, it's worth noting that I'd probably happily die myself except, oops, I'm in love with a dead, wonderful french fries, and I'm going to do everything I can to travel back in time and save her ass.

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