It is four hours past the birth of a new day, and Mr. Pickles is making a chocolate confectionary for his sickly niece, Angelica.
This situation is not very convenient for the uncle/father/inventor, because he must make the dessert from a package, and it is a more appropriate time for slumber rather than cooking. However, he must, for young Angelica was the (possibly bastard) child of his brother, and therefore family. In Stu's country and home planet, the United States of America and Earth, family came first. Before freedom, before happiness, before peace of mind. You must have a family, must take care of said family, no matter what suffering it may cost you.
The prioritizing of family can be explained with SCIENCE, which states that blood has a greater density than water. Because biological relatives share similarities in blood, your family is logically more important than Poland Spring.
Stu nodded his head after hearing the narrator's explanation. That's right; family comes first. And with that melancholy truth, the disgruntled man stirred the pudding. He stared deep within the contents of the pudding. The brown color was darker than the dawn sky outside, darker than his irises, darker than his soul. The thickness provided friction for his spoon, and the poor hand muscles gripping it.
Stu reread the narrator's last sentence. Thickness...yes, the pudding was thick, even thicker than blood. The blood which bound him to this cursed house like a chain, forced the man to make this here pudding. Well, that chain is now weak, considering how blood has an inferior density to blood. Not just blood, but his family as a whole. Their substance was puny in comparison to chocolate pudding. Therefore, no rational explanation existed for why he should continue to support them, humans he shared no affection for. After all, in his country, it was completely moral to leave a dame, suckling infant and old guy with no financial support. Especially since in his case, it was a demonic child with a cult of fellow accidents, an elderly Neo-Nazi, and a super ugly woman.
But this was no time for attempts at humorous yet accurate character descriptions. This is a time for skedaddling from this prison with the epithet of "home", for social revolution, for righteous rebirth! With that mutinous declaration engraved in his monkey mind, Stu Pickles split from the homeland. His only hesitation was justified for kissing the chocolate pudding goodbye. In the span of two minutes, it had transformed from his burden to his insentient savior, something Stu could never truly express his gratitude for. The most he could do was give a moist, hairy kiss and speak those three special words: "i luv u."
Immediately after that heartwarming moment, Saint Stu was out the door and into the night. Taking a humongous breath in, he launched himself towards planet Venus. He believed it was the most appropriate planet, being named after the Roman goddess of sexual desire and all. After approximately fifty-seven minutes, he bounced back to Earth like a boomerang. Just as he predicted, his former residence was on fire, as a result of his leaving the pudding to burn. His family, being the white people that they are, didn't bother to escape. All according to plan.
Stu stared into the blaze until his eyeballs melted. It was only then when the man felt ready to enter the flames, to embrace death and (eventual) rebirth like the phoenix he was. And so he did.
Stu, it is nearly five A.M. Why on Earth are you being reborn?
Because I've regained control of reality.