And I land my Kamov on my reserved helipad, and I open the cockpit and flashes are going off and TV cameras are rolling and the crowds are cheering and I step onto the plush red carpet and I flick my flowing requiem-black mullet back over my shoulder in this really slick way.

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And then Bell Biv DeVoe and Lionel Richie start harmonizing my awesome theme song live for the entire crowd to hear:

Bump-tsshhh.

Bump-tsshhh-tsshhh.

“They call him Doc!”

Oh fucking yeah. All the great influences are here from my past. Everyone I’ve respected. Everyone I’ve loved. Everyone I’ve beaten—and that’s everyone. If I didn’t have an icebox where my heart used to be, that heart would be warmed.

Now I’m seeing Carl the Hunchback, and he’s wearing a little hunchback tuxedo—honestly, a classy touch—and he’s surrounded by heavily armed guards and standing next to Nigel the Editor, who’s strapped down on a stainless-steel table with a buzz saw headed toward his nuts.

I look around, and I smile my sly, cunning smile, and I hold up my massive hands, and I shout:

“ENOUGH!”

Suddenly there’s silence.

“Welcome, Dr Disrespect,” Carl the Hunchback says, “to the ultimate challenge of your life.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Nigel the Editor screams.

“I’m up for any challenge you or the Brotherhood has for me,” I say. “And I gotta admit—even I’m impressed by the badass setup. You guys must have an amazing event planner. But before this goes any further, don’t you think we should end your little charade?”

“What charade?” Carl the Hunchback asks.

Hahaha, like I’m gonna fall for his bullshit.

“You know,” Carl the Hunchback says, “we can hear everything you’re saying into your tape recorder. And my question wasn’t bullshit.”

I shout, “You know exactly the charade I’m talking about. It’s the final twist ending you’ve set up since the beginning of this book—and I’ve seen it coming a mile away.”

Carl the Hunchback and Nigel the Editor kinda look at each other.

“The two of you,” I say, “are really… the SAME PERSON.”

“Uhhh,” they reply.

“That’s right! Nigel the Editor is really Carl the Hunchback, and there was no kidnapping or torture at all!”

“But…,” Carl the Hunchback says, “but we’re both right here. Right in front of you. Right now.”

I laugh. “You can’t fool me. All of it—writing my book and saving literature and treating me to lunch at App Lebeés—it was all just an elaborate ploy so the Brotherhood could get its final diabolical revenge!”