Thursday, Thanksgiving, 3058, Thomas Thadeus Truscott belatedly began his horrifically hostile limited luminous life as many militant, mouthy, mayfly-like canned cunning clanners dubiously did, suspiciously sharing, though truely timidly the undeniable, unbelievably vulgar, vitriolic, viciously vile and almost always unnervingly unspeakable exaggerated evil enhanced borrowed barbarous blood, apprehensively approved by the haughty higher uppity ups," said Sam slowly, sans sarcasm, slobbering slightly while wholly wasted on vastly vapid Oblivion.