I've been minding my own business in the target parking lot buying some cups o' juice for my talking dog. (he gets mad when he doesn't get his juice) Then suddenly I hear tippy tapping behind me 'bout tertee tree yards back. I take a quick peek and sure enough I see George Costanza in his nighttime clothes all raggedy and had been worn for several days. He yells at me angrily "the jerkstore called, and they're all out of you!" I reply with tippy tap dance. Then he breaks into a sprint. I try to make a cheeky escape, until I slip on an oily, David letterman jacket. Suddenly I look up George Costanza grabs me by the collar and shoves me up against a wall and says "tell her I was in the pool and there was significant shrinkage. Okay?" Then all of a sudden lights out of the dark. George gets on all fours and leaves without a trace. I'm picked up by none other than Mr peanut. I kick him in the peanuts and leap to safety. That is how I got my drivers license.