Almost a week and then stolen, the inventor alone and the Philospher's pot You wake in a mental institution.

It sat there for days, then disappeared one morning before we could see who got off with it. A giant circular mirror, clearly one used in aiming lasers at targets to be destroyed. Some said it was stolen.

At breakfast, you stood thinking over the pot. What responsibility did you have, as the inventor of aiming lasers, over the areas destroyed by lasers? You clearly couldn't be blamed for the entire operation. You had a great hand in achieving these results, but you couldn't be known as a death general. It wasn't in your nature. You were a nice guy.

Then you awaken, and the nightmare's over. You're immediately given a blood-pressure reading by insolent strangers. But they're caring for you. What happened last night?

You shuffle along with these other invalids to a breakfast that is over all-too-soon. Then, you wait in a ward for hours and hours, slowly losing your mind. You awoke this morning in a mental institution.

Then, at the last moment, a laser enters your eye and makes you a different person. You're back to being the inventor of aiming lasers, and you've just had a breakthrough about your next idea. Infolasers.

You'd make the adjustments to the budget in the morning.