On a dark and bitter desert night, along a desolate and long-forgotten stretch of American highway, Slap Happy was conceived in the back seat of a formerly noble white Lincoln Continental.
A foundling, Slap Happy was left to its own devices and soon strayed, beguiled by the tantalizing imps fueling the furnaces of Perdition. The choice between illumination and the abyss was inevitable. In its youthful arrogance, Slap Happy chose the pleasures of the abyss.
There it toiled.
After almost 20 years, Slap Happy has at last manifested into the light, ready to smack some joy into your otherwise humdrum lives.
The Captains of Industry have spoken.