One time I was just minding my own business when my Camaro turned into a GIANT ROBOT. I was like "Dafuq?" Then it turned back into a car so I was just like "Whatever."

Then I had to go see Skeff, my hairdresser. He thinks the commercial shampoo industry is a scam, so he uses regular soap to wash my hair. He always says I should too. Shut up, Skeff. He's in Danvers and I live in Newburyport, so it's about a half an hour drive home.

When I got home, I saw some dude tryina break into my house. I called 9-1-1, but they were taking forever to get to my house. Luckily I had my trusty Colt M1911A1 pistol hidden under my doormat. I gotta tell ya, it really comes in handy sometimes. After I killed the guy, I had to hide the body before the cops came. But… OH-NO! I was like, late for my singing lesson! Hiding the body can wait. I thought, I cannot miss a singing lesson! Seriously, I can't, or I get charged for it anyway. My stingy-ass singing teacher does't even offer a make-up lesson. How about that?

When I got back, I wanted to hide the body right away. But… MY FUCKING NEIGHBORS DECIDED THIS WAS A GOOD TIME TO HAVE A BLOCK PARTY. Um, no. This is a TERRIBLE TIME TO HAVE A BLOCK PARTY! I was freaking out a little, but I decided to just go with it. Ya know, party a little, get a little drunk, the whole shebang. By the end of it, it was 10 PM and I had forgotten about the body. That is, until I was watching TV and I saw a police car pull up outside my house. Yes, they were just arriving from when I called 9-1-1… let's see… 7 HOURS EARLIER. The police around here really do suck at their jobs. They really do.

I answered the door. "Hello, sir," said the first cop. "You called to report a burglary?"

"Yeah," I said. "SEVEN HOURS AGO."

"Is the perpetrator still on the premises?" asked the other cop.

"Um… Let's see. NO!" I replied angrily. "What took you so long? He could have killed me!"

"Sir, it appears to me that you killed him." said the first cop. "His body is on the porch right there. He is technically still on the premises. Lying to a police officer. Not good."

Oh-no! I had completely forgotten that I had killed the burglar and left his dead body right there on the porch!

"So I suppose I'm under arrest for murder?" I asked.

"I was gonna say lying to a police officer," said the first cop, who obviously did most of the talking. "But murder works, too."

Then they started arrested me and shit and my fucking Camaro turned into a giant robot again and grabbed me up in his giant fist-thing and ran. "Is this like that Shia LaBeouf Transformers shit?" I asked the giant robot.

"Ye homie," it said.

"Cool." I said, and put on my cool sunglasses so I could look cool.

"You know," I started, "I've only seen the first movie. I haven't seen the rest of them. Mind bringing me up to date?"

"Yo nugga this ain't no time fo storytelling," said the robot. "We running from the cops!"

We ran and ran. "Where we goin' brotha?" asked the giant robot, who I suddenly remembered was called Bumblebee.

I decided we could hide at my buddy Adam's house on Plum Island. I told him it was a sleepover tho, so he wouldn't freak out.

Things were going swell until the police showed up. "Newburyport Police, open up." said the guy at the door.

"No one's home, come back later," I said in a high-pitched voice.

"Um… Okay." said the cop. And he and his buddy got back into their police car and drove away.

"Dude," I said to Adam. "I can't believe that actually worked!"

"I thought you said this was a sleepover and you weren't running from the law this time!" said Adam angrily.

"Well, I kinda lied." I said.

Suddenly, we saw red and blue flashing lights outside again.

"Shit," I said. "They're back!"

But this time, it was worse. This time, it was the feds.

Fucking John Turturro came onto the porch and rang the doorbell repeatedly.

"Who is it?" asked Adam nervously.

"This is the government." said John Turturro.

"Um can you guys wait?" asked Adam. "We're kinda busy right now."

Then a huskier, angrier voice said "YO OPEN THE DOOR OR WE GON BUST IT DOWN."

"Oh shit," I said eagerly. "That would be so badass. Can you?"

The door splintered and burst open, and several guys in SWAT gear with MP5s came running in and pinned us to the ground.

Then John Fuckin' Turturro came marching in like he owned the place. He marched over to me, knelt down, and rubbed a badge in my face. "Sector 7." he said.

"Never heard of it." said Adam.

"Never will," said John Turturro.

"But wait," I said. "Aren't you like, an actor?"

"Was an actor." he corrected me. "Now I'm a part-time actor, and a full-time federal badass crime-fighter-law-enforcer-man."

"But you're still pretty famous, right?" I asked. "Like you were in some pretty big movies if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, yeah," he said.

"Can I have your autograph?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah!" he said. "In fact, it's right here ON THIS ARREST WARRANT. Take them away!"

As we were being dragged out of the house by the SWAT guys, Adam said, "Wow. Since when was John Turturro such a douche?"

"It's the fame," I said "Fame'll get to ya. It's one of the corrupting forces of the world."

Then we were thrown into the back of a van and driven off to an undisclosed location.

TO BE CONTINUED