Free Frisbee or Your Money Back.

Great. I have grass stains on the knees of my khaki shorts. There it is, folks. I'm going to be the laughingstock of the indoor working class, for today at least. So long, friends in high places. I'm off to join a world without privilege—and learn a few things about friendship along the way!

I tossed a Frisbee last night at the park with some friends, after being summoned by one so unfortunate among us to have never learned to throw one. At least, not how to do it in polite company, which was an urgent consideration since polite company had expressly invited our fallen comrade to do so. So we banded together to end the multi-decade streak of the party in question in what I can only describe as an act of pure charity.

Since you're wondering, yes, it was almost exactly like a Disney Channel teen sitcom where everybody unites to teach somebody how to dance or use cutlery and fine etiquette or conduct themselves above their social station at their crush's upcoming party. If the memory of my nerves serves, these particular episodes were almost unilaterally exercises in humiliating the title characters and making live studio audiences squirm. I loved those shows. But I digress.

Actually I suppose I only said that out of force of habit, considering I have digressed from nothing, and so can regress nowhere. So I guess that's the end of our worldly considerations of the day, Bing. Remember to always be yourself at parties. We didn't technically learn this lesson today, but we learned about learning it, which will have to be close enough. Tune in to a future episode to learn about how we set out to learn about learning about it—but end up with more than we bargained for!

My friend picked it up perfectly, in fact. But since we've all seen this episode before, we know what's going to happen, right? The script says to forget everything we taught, rediscover the virtue of just being yourself, and teach everybody present a valuable lesson in friendship (there, just like I promised, I mentioned friendship again!). And so, we waste all of the time we invested last night when we could have been doing nothing, make my grassy badges of courage worthless, and, quoth Abed of Community fame, "create the illusion of story."