Jim had always hated Tuesdays. Most people considered Monday to be the worst day of the week, but Jim knew better. And as he lied on that operating table as his precious innards were carelessly sliced out like so much chopped liver, he couldn't help but be reminded of what day it happened to be. It was the same day it always was when stuff like this happened to him.

He didn't know what it was exactly but he knew Tuesday's were inherently evil. They had to be. And Jim hated them with a level of passion rarely reached by people with their sanity still intact. He had once even tried to form a group called The Society For the Elimination of Tuesdays, which petitioned to get rid of Tuesday as a day of the week.

The way Jim saw it, a six day week would be an advantage. Not only would he rid the world of the wicked hell spawn that is Tuesday, but they could also make each day longer to compensate for the lost day. Jim had often thought that there wasn't enough time in a day to achieve anything truly productive. And with the advancements in time keeping technology there is no longer a reason to rely on silly things like the moon, the sun, the Earth and the rotational cycles of said heavenly bodies. In this day in age, using the moon to keep track of the passage of time is as arbitrary and unnecessary as a hat made out of bologna on a tortoise.

But Tuesdays would no doubt remain. As much as Jim hated to admit it, this cold hard fact was always popping up in his mind like an annoying song from a Disney movie that got stuck in your head when your five year old nephew watched the same movie eighteen times in one sitting while you were in the next room talking to your sister about faulty orthodontics. But Jim would at least have to keep trying or things like this would continue to happen.

And as Jim lied on the operating table while the unskilled, unlicenced, black market surgeon who had pretended to be interested in him while she slipped tranquilizers into his Coke and rum and dragged him back to her apartment to preform illegal surgery finished up, he heard a tiny sound echoing quietly in his partially anesthetized brain. Beep beep. It was his inexpensive digital watch. He held up his arm, which took the majority of his strength, and looked at it. 12:00. At least it was now Wednesday.