It all started as an ordinary day. The paranoia, the jumping at shadows, and the running from black cats. A little after noon I was eating my lunch in the cafeteria. As I finished my meal, I took my refuse to the trash bin as usual. As I was preparing to leave the cafeteria, one of my trusted associates initiated a conversation with me. I, trusting the fellow, bid him farewell and headed off for my next engagement. As I stepped out of the cafeteria, I could feel the weight of doom pressing down heavily on my back, and from behind me came a mighty warcry, as if all the mountains of the earth were being crushed with one herculean explosion of sound. I turned, fearing for my life, and behled my doom approaching. Defenseless, I ran with all of my strength, but I had only taken half a dozen steps when the traitor’s shot caught me on my leg. Falling to the ground. I stared blearily through a haze of pain as my attacker moved in to finish me off. Just before dealing the final blow, he spoke the words, “pancakes,” then shot me in the solar plexus. As the world faded to black, all I could think was, “Why pancakes?”