Oh, come on, Burt! She was drawing a lion, not a Clydesdale! A leopard?! What in the world was I thinking? I’m sorry, Marcia Gildenstein. I feel … so foolish.

Who am I kidding? I knew it was a lion all along. I just didn’t like how she stole my cruller before the taping. I cost that poor woman a trip to Jacksonville with my silly pride. And why? Maybe my role as “Bandit” Bo Darville in Smokey and the Bandit 1-3 gave me a bigger ego than was healthy. Who was I to dangle a trip to lovely Jacksonville, Florida, in front of this woman, then snatch it from her on a whim? Burt Reynolds, king of the world! I decide who gets to stay at the Marriott and who gets a home version of the game. I held the world by a string!

Alas! Hubris was the undoing of Creon and Antigone, and thus has it been the downfall of Reynolds. Because I spurned poor Mrs. Gildenstein all those years ago, I have been left with nothing, save my millions of dollars and gold-plated concubines. The stars and the planets have aligned against me! I’m sorry, Marcia! I promise I’ll make this right for you: you’ll go to Jacksonville or my name isn’t Burt Rey—dang, that Lynda Carter’s a smokin’ package. She could lasso me anytime. Yowza.