Here's The Story

It's day 27 and I'm still in the boot and I'm sick of people asking me about my foot, because instead of injuring it in a bar fight or a cliff diving accident, I woke up one day with a stress fracture, which is a pussy kind of injury to talk about.  So when Florence Henderson asked me what happened it was like sitting at the dinner table when the vase starts to leak, and I'm looking at Greg and he's looking at Marcia and she's looking at Bobby and everyone's pretending not to see the water leaking all over the table because it's easier than saying "Peter was playing ball in the house and broke your favorite vase" so I blurted "snowboarding accident" instead.

I lied to Mrs. Brady.  And I'm going to hell.