In all reality, I am actually an average human being, taking for granted that the average human being is something like myself. Everything I write here is true to some extent. It may not be to a very palpable extent, but if you were a very small organism, such as an amoeba or bacteria, assuming that you aren't already, the tiny nugget of truth in my every word would be evident to you. I'm sorry if I have offended any monocellular lifeforms.
At any rate, tommorow is my birthday. And by that, I mean, it is the day I was cloned in a laboratory and then released into Jupiter's atmosphere to collect resources. In my gaseous infantile state it was difficult to manuever amongst more dense gasses, however, I brought back enough toast to last mankind an eternity.
Which is why I feel such great responsibility concerning the brekfalution that has plagued the past year. I did not implant the seeds of revolt, but I did create a backup army of billions. The road to hell really is paved with good intentions. And concrete, I guess.
Anyone who can make sense of the first two paragraphs has earned the right to challenge my leadership of Roboshrub Incorporated in combat.