In the middle of an unknown century, Toronto decided to write a note to himself. The note contained scribbles of what had happened to him the night just before. A woman, with half her face coming off, had yelled at him from down the street. "Look at what a treat I look. Look at how much a treat I am”. Treats, ha! She didn't look like any form of treats he'd even seen. His note said: if you read this note then it looks like I've wrote it... Or written it. So Be. So Be. However, he suffered a paper cut and bled to death.