Upon meeting the black cat in the alley way, not only did I realize I was Sailor Moon but I got this great idea for a novel, which I later published. It was critically praised but hated by the masses, so I spent my days drinking a sweet, sweet blend of Mountain Dew and vodka in a particularly uremic-smelling gutter on Canal Street. Then I killed the evil robot king (after shaking off my hangover) and took the title of Divine Empress away from the usurping Elizabeth Hurley and retired to a simple life of idyllic luxury selling roses in a glass houseboat on the Seine.