So. That sure was an interesting event to wake up to, a few days ago. And once Philip figured out that he was meant to escape those scenes by playing along he also figured out that this whole story had a really familiar ring to it. Something an old friend told him once. Really odd story, even for that guy.

Well. That was a few days and several channels earlier though, and by now Philip's forgotten about that particular memory in favour of doing the only proper thing in an hopelessly haphazard situation like this: Walk up front to wherever the "studio" puts you, and do your lines with a resigned expression.

This time he all but perks up at that announcer though. Hey, it's been a while since anybody Dr. Philip LaFresque'd him, and it's almost nice to reminisce on-- On a career decidedly not related to men's health, and there goes his mood.

And if that mood wasn't leaving the stage fast enough, hey, here's a look at his co-host, and suddenly Philip grimaces, struck with the reminder of his first day epiphany.

"You."

Truth to be told, that probably wasn't in the script.

"This is your bloody fault, isn't it?"

...And that probably wasn't either.