He first went to the labor and delivery ward of his local hospital to visit expectant moms who were in labor but not quite ready to deliver the baby. You know how they say that sex is the best way to get the whole baby delivering process party started? No, he didn't sleep with the moms. Come on. He didn't need to. Just being in the same room as Steve Perry caused the ladies to dilate the full ten centimeters and get the show on the road. They were PIO-induced, if you will.
Next on his agenda was to travel around gang-ridden neighborhoods and beat the shit out of some punks. Now, this might sound like a dangerous venture, and it is--for any other man. But Steve Perry is a ninja, well-versed in the ways of ancient martial arts and all around ninja-dom, and a force to be reckoned with. He also had a semi-automatic pistol. My point? Kicking those gang members' asses was easy for him, and the crime rate in those neighborhoods is now at zero percent. Forever.
Since the multiple ass-beatings he doled out tired him somewhat, Steve took a minor detour from servicing his community to get a massage and recharge. Then he jumped right back in by cooking a gourmet meal for the local soup kitchen. What was on the menu, you ask? Good question. Indian-spiced shrimp to start off, followed by lamb au poivre and ending with chocolate toffee diamonds for dessert.
So there you have it. Steve's MLK Day. By the time he returned home to woo and subsequently make sweet, sweet love to a lady friend, his community was statistically 1000% better. That's statistically, folks. Cold, hard facts. I couldn't make this stuff up. ::shifty eyes::