Eating alone is one of the saddest things a person can do. It's pathetic, really; siting by yourself, gorging on easy mac in your underwear, passively watching an old South Park you've seen twenty times. Hence our need to acquire friends to join us on culinary adventures. And when one of these adventures leads us to a place where money must be exchanged for food, one friend becomes particularly invaluable.

On the surface he looks like your other friends: mildly overweight, funny but not hilarious, somewhat shaggy hair and an inexplicable interest in trains, maybe. But underneath that unassuming shell beats the heart of a hero, a martyr even. You see, he, my friends, is the Bill Martyr and his sacrifice is all of your gain.

Only when the server drops off the check will he spring into action. As you all try in vain to calculate what is owed, craning your neck to see how much that Bloomin' Onion set you back, the Bill Martyr sits quietly. Even as five and tens are tossed carelessly into a pot, he waits. And then his all-encompassing hatred of math boils over and he sacrifices himself to the greater good of the table.

"Let's just put it on my card." he says quietly. The action stops.

Again, louder this time, "I'll just put it all on my card, ok?" he bellows. JOY!

Immediately, money is greedily returned to wallets and the bill is ceremoniously lain before him. With trembling hands he produces a card and lays it softly on the plastic bill tray. As all servers do when they hear the faint snap of plastic on plastic, your waiter retrieves the card and disappears.

A sense of calm washes over you and each man now, besides our hero, has his money safely in his wallet. "Do you want cash now?" one of you asks.

"Nah, just hit me up later," our hero says knowing full well that nearly half of that money will never be seen again. The waiter returns and our hero puts his X on the line, finalizing his doom. Is that a bead of sweat on his brow? No. Does he shake with fear at the enormous sum TGI Fridays has demanded? No. Will his father call him later and ask why he spent $65 at a shitty restaurant? Yes.

And that is why CollegeHumor salutes him. He lays waste to his credit, brushes aside financial loss and stares down the looming threat of death all so that you can have a hassle-free dining experience. As a weak gazelle sacrifices himself to the lion so that his herd may escape, so does the Bill Martyr sacrifice himself to ease your dining experience.

Also, he wants the rewards points. I mean, that Amex lawn chair isn't going to buy itself.