Q: What are areas of grey matter in the spinal cord?

A: Those are nanobots. Clusters of tiny robots slowly invading your system and taking over your skeleton.

As you can see on your x-ray, the bots have built bases in each vertebrae and presently will conquer your skull. Once that happens, your every action will be under the control of your tiny, robot overlords.

If you have any unchecked items on your "bucket list," I suggest you get to them. If you are unfamiliar with the term, a "bucket list" is -

- So you know what one is.

And you've brought yours with you. Excellent. Let's have a look.

Climb Mount Everest - That's out. The bots have severely weakened your spine. You won't be able to walk up a flight of stairs in a few days.

Drive in the Indy 500 - Again, not going to happen. You may not have noticed, but you don't have any depth perception. That's why you can't connect on any more high fives.

High Five the President - Strictly a fantasy at this point, for obvious reasons.

Watch a Minor League Baseball Game - Really aimed high on that one. I would suggest you do that today. It looks like the only item on your list that you might be able to accomplish before the bots take control.

Looking over your list, I see that you haven't checked off anything. What have you done with your life? What were you waiting for? Oh, wait, here's a check mark.

Make Love to A Robot

I guess we know how you got the nanobots.

Q: How do you write the conclusion to your story?

A: When I have my hero backed into a corner, all hope seemingly lost, his loved ones dead, his career as a Homicide Detective in ruins, his checking account overdrawn, his favorite slacks torn to shreds, his life in the hands of the serial killer he's been chasing for 400 pages, I find it best to give the reader a chance to catch his breath and contemplate all that has come before. I do this with a series of ellipses:
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Then I add dragons. The rest writes itself. Or, I have my son write it.

Either way, it's Miller Time!

Q: How long does it take wine to get out of your blood?

A: Depending on how much you consumed, anywhere from 30 minutes to a full day. In your case, I'm going to say about 14 hours.

You can't bleed it out of your system. That's absurd. Even if you could, you don't have time. The cop's getting out of his car right now.

I told you to take a cab.

Look, you'll be fine. Refuse the breathalyzer, get a lawyer, and  -

- Oh, dear God.

You must have hit a vein! It's all over me. Make it stop! Make it stop!

I can't wait to see how you explain this one. You, drunk as a skunk. Me, covered in blood. I hope the cop has a sense of humor. I don't think pretending to be asleep is going to help, Dan.

Dan?

Dan!

Oh boy.

What seems to be the problem, Officer?