For a moment, the earth stood still. No one noticed. Why would you? If the earth stood still, nothing would actually change. And yet still it stood. A bead of sweat formed on Spaz's fluffy brow. His heart raced faster. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He checked his watch. It was a Tuesday.

A Tuesday. Perhaps, to the layman, a day like any other. But to this grizzled warrior, Tuesday was a hell that would never stop burning. It was a mosquito bite that would never stop itching. It was a toilet that would never stop running, no matter how much you jiggle the handle.

Tuesday. Many years ago, it was the fateful morning when Spaz's father went to the store for sour cream, never to return. A sour cream indeed -- whipped with the whisks of injustice, and milked from the udders of hate. And the taco upon which that sour cream would stand garnish...was revenge.