It was a Saturday and I didn't know what to do with myself. So I gave myself to someone else. He decided myself was good at darts, even though I told him myself wasn't. He fed myself water and carrots. He threw things to improve hand/eye coordination. But myself still placed last at the dart tournament. He brought myself back to me. He felt badly about the darts. About the water and carrots. About the whole thing, really. "I just don't know what myself is good for," he said as he began to cry. I told him it was all right. I was glad to see myself again, who was looking good a few pounds thinner and sporting a new outfit. It seemed like a lot had happened since that Saturday.
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