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Yeah? Yeah? We . . . I didn't watch the Superbowl because just as the game was coming on, I heard a sound outside my window. Looked out, and it was a Star-Sprinter. (Star-Sprinters are the smaller craft launched by the humongously larger mother ships.) I ran outside, threw the waterproof coverings off my NSA-surplus laser attack M6-40 and began firing. I knocked out two sprinters right away. Then the sprinters, instead of strafing, began light-bombing runs. (Light bombing runs are when they use light bombs rather than heavy bombs.) When the sprinters peeled away, my Airedale and I went looking for prisoners. Found two aliens using some sort of hyper-gloss boom-boom. I engaged in two fire fights, each lasting several hours. After it was over, I counter 84 alien corpses. I was preparing my flame-throwers to burn the bodies when a black 1897 black Cadillac showed up. Two very tall, not-very-human-looking beings got out and warned me that if I mentioned my fight with they aliens, they'd come back for me. And THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why I didn't watch the Super Bowl. Dumb, stupid people telling us why they're too good to watch a football game.