It was about 2 PM, and time for the Chemical Brothers to devour Manhattan. However, they seemed to be running a tad late, so I turned on my TV watch and started flipping around, trying to locate some hot gardening action.
I did not have much time for that, however, as a medium-sized penguin approached me.
"CAW!~#~" it said.
"Penguins can't fly!" I proclaimed, with a vague sense of alarm. "PENGUINS CAN'T FLY~!!"
That was enough for it - we broke out the fisticuffs.
At that point, mercury was still considered a metal, not a planet. Ham was a luncheon meat. And Burt Bacharach will rip your head off, and shit down your esophagus.
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