Format the following passage properly, for storytelling purposes. Keep it as written, don't change a single word, but improve grammar where necessary.

Fresh off my first CPU vs. CPU game in "Tecmo Super Bowl II: Special Edition," I have no doubt I made a good choice for a Genesis title to enjoy on a daily basis. It seems to check every single box: full NFL/NFLPA license, historic teams (the full rosters from the '92/'93/'94 seasons are all available), anime-style cutscenes, a killer stereo soundtrack, and the ability to play an all-star Pro Bowl game plus a full season. In fact, there is a special ending if you win three consecutive championships, which is part of the reason the full rosters of three different seasons are included in the game. Besides the fact that by that point in NFL history no team had managed to win three consecutive Super Bowls (which is part of where the game's plot comes from, the idea of you leading a team to achieve a feat that had never been done in real life), the Dallas Cowboys were two-time defending Super Bowl champions at the time of the game's release, which only serves to make an exciting concept even more compelling. So it made sense for me to put my beloved Miami Dolphins against them, using the amazing 1992 rosters (from the same year I was born). The Dolphins seemed to be off to a good start, scoring the first points of the game on a touchdown pass from Dan Marino to Mark Duper. (This is notable as the '92 season marked Mark Duper's last as a professional, though he did play one season with the Arena Football League in 1994 as a member of the Miami Hooters. Yes, that was their actual name--hey, you have to admit it's more exciting than the "Sacramento Attack" or the "Florida Bobcats!") Things were looking good for them at halftime, when they trailed 8-7 after allowing two field goals and a safety. Their defense had done its job and prevented the Cowboys from getting a single touchdown in the first half. However, the wheels came off the wagon in spectacular fashion, as the Cowboys scored two offensive touchdowns and were now leading 22-7, having scored twenty-two unanswered points after allowing the early Marino-Duper TD. Marino connected with Duper on another touchdown pass as time expired in the third quarter, cutting the deficit to 22-14. The Cowboys would score once more, winning by a final score of 29-14. The Dolphins tried for a comeback late, but Dallas--displaying sensational short-yardage defense--thwarted them deep in Cowboys territory, a fourth-down conversion attempt proving unsuccessful. Emmitt Smith proved a major factor in the Cowboys' victory, recording eighty-nine rushing yards on 13 carries. Eleven short of the magical 100-yard mark, he fell victim to an injury and was replaced by backup runner Tommie Agee, who recorded almost fifty himself. It is quite something how well the Japanese game developers at Tecmo managed to capture nearly all the elements that make football what it is, and somehow increase the excitement factor while they were at it. From my room, I am able to hear a CNA's laughter, as she is presumably engaging in a conversation with a coworker or family member. She says a few things, most likely in Creole, but I do not get even remotely close to figuring out what she is talking about. As it is none of my business, I decide to pay it no mind. My mindfulness shifts to a feeling of warmth, and not a friendly type but the sort that leaves your body in a state of discomfort. We faced a similar problem at work today, where it seems the AC has been on the fritz for the last few days; it seemed to start malfunctioning last week, and hopefully arrangements are being made for repair specialists to come out and do the necessary maintenance work. I can't fight this feeling anymore. (Apologies to REO Speedwagon; please don't come after me for any royalties, because I don't have any artillery with which to compete against your wicked-sweet lawyer ninja army.) Sweet relief, here I come. Lifting my 321 pounds (according to a recent, and unofficial, weigh-in; a second visit to the scale registered me at 320.4, but I believe the first is more likely) off of the black chair, I walk over to the switches and turn on the ceiling fan. After taking a few moments to warm up--pun unintended--it is now 'doing it and doing it well' (whoops, now I've incurred the wrath of LL Cool J's ninja lawyers...please don't sue me, guys! I don't have anything you'd ever possibly be interested in!). My eyes shift west, as I observe a multicolored lei swaying from left to right. It has been hanging on the handle to my closet since early July, a lei having been gifted to each resident of the Joshua House as a way of honoring July 4th. I am thinking about parting with it and letting a certain coworker keep it. He celebrated his birthday last week, and while it has come and gone, I still feel like giving him something special. Eyal Golan, Shlomo Artzi, Kobi Peretz. These are just a few of the artists I have discovered through my friend, who likes to hear their music as a way of remembering his family and honoring his Israeli roots. He is a long way now from South Africa, where he was born and raised, the son of parents who were both originally from Israel. This year marked his thirty-eighth birthday, though you wouldn't believe it if you met him for the first time. At 38 he doesn't have a speck of gray in his hair; on the other hand, I had the 'salt-and-pepper' before I was 30. (It seems to be genetic, as my biological grandfather was snow-white before he was 40.) Today, in a moment of rare frustration, I pushed away his hand with a surprising aggression when he tried to get me to do something for him. I felt horrible and quickly apologized. Fortunately, the situation died down, and by the end of the shift I said goodbye to him and gave him two hugs. I care about him so much, but I remembered that I am only human and have to take care of my needs before I can be of service to anyone else. Unfortunately, because of the dietary circumstances at the day program (since it operates on behalf of a Jewish federation, with a strict impetus on the honoring of kosher regulations), I am not able to eat lunch or have snacks in the break room. It'd be a preference for me, because I do like solitude, and have found some of the other clients troublesome to deal with. Having been there a few months I have become a bit more open, receptive, understanding. Faint sounds can be heard from the television in the living room. A certain housemate likes to spend the last few hours of the day watching whatever is compelling to her; she has somewhat of a monopoly on the programming, which is perfectly fine as I have a TV in my room that has been working well for the last couple of months. Paying attention to the time, I remember that I promised a certain client I would give him a call. His phone is set to automatically connect to whoever is on the other line, as he is partially blind and requires certain 'accessibility' features to make phone communication easier. At 8:28 I call him up, introducing myself and asking him if he wants to talk. I hear noise in the background, but don't hear him say anything. I wish him a good night's sleep, say 'goodbye' and hang up the call. By this point, the darkness of night has vanquished the light of the sun. It seems now would be a good time to turn in for bed, but I am compelled to write to a couple of people. To gain, you must venture.