Here you are, at the twilight (or not) of your life, and you’ve gone this whole time getting Justin Timberlake and Jimmy Fallon’s origin story wrong. It was a little naive of you to assume that such kindred, giggling intimacy could blossom under the bright lights of Saturday Night Live, was it not? No, Timberlake and Fallon’s bond is the bond of youthful rebellion, of laughing like no one’s watching (even though they, um, are), of going to summer camp in October and singing Alanis Morissette way past lights out and not caring who knows. Theirs is the connection of pure, dweebish innocence. Wet Hot American Summer it is not.