I'll take this one:

" What did you do wrong the day you felt the most physical pain you've ever experienced?"

Technically the story starts when I was 16.  Unlike most, I was looking forward to braces.  Dr. Anil had assured me that I would only need 10 months  in braces, and if I responded well, I could have them off before senior portraits were taken.  "There's only one problem, Eddie."  A grandmaster at getting a dental X-Ray illuminated with one hand, Dr. Anil pointed directly at the cluster of teeth that looked like someone hit "rotate," in photoshop.  "These four wisdom teeth have got to go."

"Do they need to go before I get my braces on?" I asked.  With a familiar sigh that comes from having answered this question to numerous kids and their parents, "No, but this isn't something you want to waste time dealing with."

Fast forward 17 years.

It's the tuesday before Comic Con 2011.  I'm brushing my teeth when I feel something hard floating around my toothbrush.  Sure enough, a tiny piece of wisdom tooth has broken off.  This was one of four impacted wisdom teeth that had poked through my gum line, in formations that resembled the dinosaur statues at the La Brea Tar Pits.  Wisdom Tooth 1, as I would come to know it, was positioned at a 45 degree angle towards my back upper left molar.  Prying my cheek back, I see where the break occurred.  Scientists say that when human flesh is exposed to a blowtorch, the initial sensation actually feels ice cold to the touch.  The inverse is true of cold water against a freshly exposed nerve inside of a tooth.  Aside from the pain, I immediately panicked about how this might affect my trip to San Diego, because priorities, am I right?  That evening provided some ad hoc relief.  Namely, wine.  After three glasses of fairly cheap pinot grigio, the pain had all but gone.  The following day, a solid mix of prescription grade ibuprofen and not touching the tooth with any type of matter seemed to keep the pain at bay.  The Thursday morning of Comic Con, I got up at 4:00 am to make the train.  Immediately, I knew that my cocktail of meds was not a sustainable solution.  Yet I pushed on, trying to enjoy the vista of Solana Beach in the morning as the train chugged towards my destination.  I arrived, got my badge, and hit the show floor.  I had several individual packs of Motrin, and they couldn't go down quick enough.  The pain clearly started on one tooth, but the sensation was similar to a single fire igniting several other fires nearby.  The result was a state of chronic pain that led me to believe that relief would come only if nine of my teeth were removed immediately.  I've broken bones, dislocated toes, had abdominal surgery, and nothing felt like this.  Beyond pain, it was a steady panic that there was nothing I could do about this pain.  At one point it felt like there was actually something stuck between the mean old wisdom tooth, and the nice, well behaved molar that had clearly fallen in with a bad crowd.  I remembered my grandfather used to floss his teeth with the clear plastic wrapper that his cigarettes used to come packaged in (can I get a what-what, Arkansas?) so I took one of the individual motrin packs and tried something similar on the tiny border around my wisdom tooth. 

This was my first mistake.  The pain went from bad, to geneva convention violation.  Within four minutes I was googling "San Diego+dentist+gaslamp+oral surgery+oh my god send help."  A quick taxi ride later took me to a rather lovely suburb that I would love to visit again, only when my skull wasn't on fire, and I wasn't involuntarily in tears.  I collected myself enough to squeak out, "wisdom tooth broke, please help" because by this point talking was next to impossible.  They said that they could see me, but there was a wait because I had no appointment.  I said that was fine, but was there anyway they could, I dunno....numb me, or knock me out, or place me in a medically induced coma while I wait?  They could, but there would still be a wait.  Meanwhile I should sit in one of their, admittedly, comfy chairs in the waiting room and try to distract myself with some tv.   Now showing, was "Just Go With It," starring Jennifer Anniston and Adam Sandler. 

I waited outside, googling deities that I could pray to. 

Finally seated, the first question they had was, "Have you eaten popcorn recently?  Because, y'know kernels sometimes get stuck there and-"

"MY FUCKING TOOTH BROKE!!!!!!"

The novocaine needle seemed to be accompanied "Halcyon+on+on," by Orbital.  They gave me some painkillers, a specialty mouthwash, and they did a deep clean of the area, and gave me another shot to numb me.  I would be mostly fine for the rest of con, and could schedule an appointment when I got back to LA to have it removed.

The following Monday at work, a quarter of the tooth broke off.  Also, it was one of those days I decided to take the train into the office that day because THE ENVIRONMENT, you guys.  Stuck with no car, I walked to the closest Dentist near my office in Hollywood, clearly a pro at this sort of thing now.  "Look," I explained to the dentist like a guy on his third tour to the soldier fresh out of boot camp, "This happened last week, so just do the thing with the needle and the deep clean I'll go tomorrow to get it pulled."  Except the thing with the needle wouldn't work this time.  My exposed nerve endings had learned the Contra Code, and any shot would last maybe 2 hours at best.  Well, shit.

I came back to my office, WHERE I HAD A DEADLINE THAT EVENING, and explained that I would be gone for about 90 minutes, but I would finish tonight.  I found an oral surgeon somewhere in Mid Wilshire and at 4:45, this little demon in my skull and I were going to have our final showdown.  The cab ride was when I first noticed that my lunch time novocaine shot was starting to wear off.  After a hilarious set of interactions with the receptionist I was in the chair.  "Okay, so let's get you gassed.."  my new best friend said.  "No."  I heard someone who sounded a lot like me but no way could possibly be me, say.  "I have to go back to work after this, so just do local."

It was almost a work of art, how a single, confused blink could communicate so many different thoughts.  Like an old, late night commercial for a shitty compilation album, I imagined how the blink the dentist gave me scrolled all of his thoughts to the right of him.  "Is this guy fucking kidding me?"  "Maybe he's a Sado-masochist and gets off on this?"  "Is he uninsured and needs his wits about him when he tries to ditch the bill?"  "Does Apotemnophilia extend to teeth?   This could be an awesome peer-reviewed study." (This track was highlighted in Yellow, as it was the track currently playing."

"Um...ok.  I should warn you.....you're going to hear things."  Holy shit, this guy should write script punch ups for horror films, I thought, as the all too familiar needle pierced my gum line. 

For the record, I did, in fact, hear things.  I felt no pain, but did feel immense pressure. When he commented about how the roots were splayed in different directions, and after sawing two of them off, he had to stand on a stool to get the proper leverage to pry the wisdom tooth out.  After stitching and packing, the ordeal was over.  I looked down at the tray, and much like the debrief on Apollo 13, the story became clear.  At some point a piece of food had become wedged on the backside of the tooth, in an area that was impossible to reach with a tooth brush.  Over time, it burrowed a hole into the tooth, weakening it from one side.  After the first break from the tooth brush, it was just going to crumble piece by piece until it all fell out.  My way was better.  I cabbed it back to the office, and as the other editors were packing it up for a day, they all noticed my engorged face.  For the record, while there is no worse pain than exposed tooth nerve pain, there is NO greater joy than when it's over.  At that moment, I felt like a champion.  I passed by my Post Supervisor's office, where he was likely about to scream in shock at the sight of my asymmetrical face, before I cut him off with a thumbs up and a muffled "GERD TER GER."  I finished my cut at midnight, and had the best sleep of my entire life.

Prompts remaining:

What is the least sexy sexy thing that has ever happened to you?

Worst work related incident you experienced?

What led to the best sleep you've ever gotten? (new)

The element that was not in the books that the showrunners addd was particularly hard to watch.

That is a goo subject.  I think the ones that work as narratives into their own are the best.  The ones that come to mind are:

Hearts of Darkness
Killing Priscilla
Overnight
Gimme Shelter (sort of)
Lost in La Mancha

All of those have stories an messages of their own to convey.  As much as I love the LOTR BTS features, they're purely informational and dot necessarily pass the Lecture Test for me.

I enjoyed it fine as a movie, completely separated from what makes Satr Trek worthy of its fandom.  That said, I lament the wasted opportunities they could have told.  It's my similar gripe with the last three bond films.  The end of Skyfall basically establishes, "OK, THIS is the Bond you've been waiting for."  It just took three movies to get there.  By the end of ST:ID, we've finally moved the characters into a place were they had grown enough to be worthy of the legacy.  I thought we had done that at the end of the last movie.  So while it was fine as a movie, I just am getting a bit tired of waiting or them to be these characters.

Ill edit it in FCP.  Not hard.

We can choose a name that both captures our tone and honors the gentleman who brought the copyright issue to our attention.  So ladies and gentlemen I present to you,

Fuck That Guy: The Podcast

Kickstarter is in the works.

Thanks man!  Honestly, who knows.  All voting is subjective.  They made a point of saying that in my rejection email.

We sadly didn't make the top 12.  But we'll always be top 1....in your hearts.  Here's the movie!

That article has largely been dismkssed by everyone.

4 and parts of 5.

Or...the Old Testament, really.