I believe in predetermined lives, mine written behind the scenes. Invisible men with cluttered desks racking brains over a single word. Work it, babes! Mine can't be as creative. Too busy forging hair from marble and brushing teeth in acid. Gotta look good for the starving dogs outside. Think green, my little pups! We can save the world with spoiled banter! Tomorrow I'll walk into a burning building and save a few orphans, then maybe I'll find true love in a clichéd showdown. Life's so simpler when my paper forefathers forge this personality for me.