Christopher stumbled out of the bar, way more drunk than what was even legal, and tried to get on his bike - and fell off. "djajdn... Little shieße..." He then got back on it, and began derpily biking off, eventually falling into a ditch, unconscious. A few hours later, he was still out cold when a pair of grunts, a male and female, found him. Male Grunt: "That makes our job a lot easier. Let's get him back to base." The female grunt nodded silently, and put him in a bag, which was remakably easy considering he can retract the spikes on his shell.