It's like reporting for duty on the deck of the enterprise just in time for a Klingon attack.
I'm psyched. I've been training for years for this moment. Bring on the client-facing pivot tables, I say! AND LET THEM PREPARE TO DIE!
Before beaming down to the planet of pivots, however, I need to find that one key member of my party - the character you've never seen on any previous episode of Star Trek, the one who really should have a big bull's-eye painted on his forehead because he may be beaming down, but the only way he'll be beamed back up is in mason jars. Or the distant-future equivalent of mason jars. I suppose the science of food preservation will have progressed by leaps and bounds by then.
Wish me luck!
(And if you're wondering why I've been left to command the Enterprise, it's because Captain Kirk is busy these days making goo-goo eyes at Gene Simmons.)