sorry you guys, a mustachioed man had me tied to train tracks, is why I’m late and why I’m bisected
sorry you guys, some hipster cannibals flew me into the jungle in a private jet then tricked me into climbing into a big stew pot ’cause it looked like a hot tub, is why I’m late and smell like carrots and potatoes
sorry you guys, my rocket’s jets wouldn’t turn off, which is why I’m late and why you’re finding this recorded message next to my skeleton, inside an astronaut suit, on a dusty planetoid where I’ve spelled out the word S-O-R-R-Y with rocks, visible from space