"You were close this time." Even with the kitchen smelling of burnt bread and the machine exhaling some smoke, Ari's voice was patient as she showed you again how to set up the toaster. "Try again."

It's been almost a whole week since you've returned from the hospital. During your presidential speech, you'd received a bash in your head caused by a loose beam in the same stage you had given the speech in. Everyone thought it was a miracle you survived, albeit not without some inconvenience.

Temporal amnesia, the doctors had diagnosed after you woke up without even remembering your own name (or how toasters worked, as you may imagine). A difficult situation, considering you were the president, but the Council voted to wait a month and see if you recovered enough memories to keep your position. Meanwhile, they sent someone to keep an eye on you and help you rehabilitate.

And who was more qualified than your sweet, cute and pretty secretary? It's sarcastic, by the way.