About mid way out one of the arms of a particular spiral galaxy, there exists a unremarkable gravitationally bound system centered around a G-type main-sequence star. On the third rock orbiting this star, in the late afternoon, of a month dedicated to an almost forgotten ancient god of war, the day after the celebration of another human that somehow drove all the snakes off of someone’s island, a human child was born.

The name of this child was Donovan. Now, that name isn’t really important to remember because he never really went by or used it, but it was apparently fairly popular because of some musician that was very mellow and perhaps yellow too. For a time after that, the moniker of Skip was picked up somehow. Ultimately it was decided to go with Lance, since it sounded a little more mature than Skip and it was thought people might just take him more seriously. Unfortunately, Lance sounded a little too much like pants, and for some unknown reason other children seemed to think there were ants in those pants.

As it is typical with humans, he was born at a young age and then continued to grow into this very awkward stage of their lives that they call adolescence. This all took place somewhere in or about a place called Wheeling. Wheeling was located in a state that rather looked like a hand, with it’s thumb sticking out and the middle figure sticking up. Wheeling was just about in the middle of that middle finger. But out of common courtesy and proper manners it was referred to as the Northern Panhandle, and not the middle finger.