You remember very little of your old life. You were born in a speeding, rattling, time-travelling hunk of junk and raised lovingly by a cabal of faceless corporate drones. As a child, you took pride in pyrotechnics, but it soon became obvious that you were meant for bigger things. That's where your horde of loyal yellow assistants came in. It was essential in overcoming your childhood best friend's tragic death. Your time for greatness is here. Yippie-ki-yay!