When I was three my sister was institutionalized after mistaking my head for a NES and trying to insert a copy of Super Mario Bros into my forehead. As I grew older and my head grew increasingly larger, it was mistaken for a multitude of different video game systems. At ten, I was hospitalized after a schoolmate tried to stuff a copy of Altered Beast into my mouth and I almost suffocated. At 15, a young, disgruntled Virtual Boy owner punched me after he handed me a copy of Teleroboxer, grabbed my skull, peered into my eyes, and proclaimed that "I didn't work." Now as a new generation of home consoles approaches, I fear for my life as Dreamcast owners attempt to plug extra controllers into my eye sockets and VMUs telephone wires into my ears. At least I have a pretty girlfriend. Her name is Adrienne. I love you, my widdle squeezums!