Everything is sort of hazy, and having a drunk Senator in your head certainly doesn't help, but I think I can remember most of the pertinent details:

It all began while I was minding my own business in the Apres Monde Lodge drinking Irish coffees out of my Cheech & Chong thermos. I got a call from Claudine that she wanted to see me. Apparently, Claudine had a yen for some island Skeleton sensation and wanted us to make sure that he won a gold medal in men's figure skating. At first, I thought the Olympics would be fun, but then I realized that they were being held in Utah.

The very thought of being in Salt Lake City with all of those Cammorae to keep me from drinking the Great Salt Lake and all of those Mormons to keep me from drinking everything else terrified me.

My familia and I began planning to convert the poor Skeleton boy, but I decided to get some clarification from Claudine. The next thing I remember is waking up in a Utah drunk tank on the bottom bunk.

Tony informed me that he and I had walked back in time to save a drunk lass, a Kennedy, and to place a large bet on the Patriots to win the Super Bowl. After our release, I got the ticket from Tony.

Jonathan Pryce bought the house a round in celebration of his winning money on the Patriots. Caught up in the excitement, I foolishly let out that I, too had won a lot of money on the Patriots. What followed was too horrific to remember. I also won a bet with Senator Jean Carnahan (D-MO). She had to urge the Senate to "make ethanol a priority." Or maybe that was Senator Kennedy that won that bet. As I said, it's confusing.

Anyway, upon my return to Salt Lake, I handed over my winnings to Paul (who planned to use them to bribe some skating judges) and then got drunk. In my drunken stupor, my "friend" Tim convinced me to let him hit Senator Kennedy with a car.

I woke up in a strange bed with my arm caught beneath a Behemoth of a woman. I tried to extricate myself gracefully, but she was a Mormon and managed to trap me. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the bottle of Jim Beam and drank it. Unfortunately, Jim's advice didn't pan out.

Fujiyama Hakuseki bought a round of sake for the house in honor of Honda Eijiro, the champion sumo wrestler. I was in Tokyo, but Jabba the Latter-Day Saint was with me somehow. I tried to get away from her by stepping into Senator Kennedy, but something went very wrong and now the Senator is stuck in my head. We realized that only copious amounts of sake could possibly help us.

Jabba, Senator Kennedy, and I headed up on stage to perform a Captain and Tenille number. I was able to influence the drunken Honda-san to attack me annd Senator Ted, and in the ensuing melee, we were able to run like little girls and get away from Jabba.

So, anyway, that's what I'm doing sitting outside of a Tokyo Seven-Eleven drinking Ripple, what's your excuse?