It was a dark and stormy night.
The water was cold. I was only 11 so I didn't worry about shrinkage.
Before dunking me under, the portly gentlemen to whom soap was only a concept said, "Truth is light. Life's light. Which is flushing your life away by selling as many books and magazines as you can and blowing kisses to elders driving BMWs before toddling off to be a window washer."
That night I got wasted on Oreos and chocolate milk while watching Richard Nixon and Nancy Reagan sing "I Just Want To Be Your Everything" on Dance Fever.
Then I turned 12.