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Back Violence. Speed. Momentum. Save as PDF
Chapters (22)
  1. Dedication
  2. AUTHOR’S NOTE I’LL NEVER WRITE THIS BOOK
  3. PREFACE YAYAYAYA!
  4. INTRODUCTION OKAY, I’LL WRITE THIS BOOK
  5. CHAPTER 1 MY MULTIDIMENSIONAL BIRTH
  6. CHAPTER 2 LET’S SET A RECORD, BABY!
  7. CHAPTER 3 THE TWO-TIME
  8. CHAPTER 4 GROOMING WITH THE DOCTOR
  9. CHAPTER 5 ALL RIGHT, I’M BACK
  10. CHAPTER 6 THE DOC’S FIRST SPONSOR
  11. CHAPTER 7 THE SECOND TIME I DROVE A LAMBORGHINI (AND HOW YOU CAN DRIVE ONE TOO)
  12. CHAPTER 8 THE SECRET BEHIND WHAT, EXACTLY, I’M A DOCTOR OF
  13. CHAPTER 9 THE KUMITE EXCEPT FOR VIDEO GAMES AND ALSO IT’S REAL
  14. CHAPTER 10 THE ATHLETICISM—WOW!
  15. CHAPTER 11 THE KUMITE EXCEPT FOR VIDEO GAMES AND ALSO IT’S REAL
  16. CHAPTER 12 THE RIGHT FLIP PHONE FOR YOU
  17. CHAPTER 13 HOLLYWOOD DOMINATION—AND DOC’S DISILLUSIONMENT
  18. CHAPTER 14 WHAT I’M THE DOCTOR OF
  19. CHAPTER 15 THE END???
  20. EPILOGUE FROM THE DESK OF NIGEL P. FARNSWORTH III
  21. AFTERWORD DID YOU REALLY THINK I’D GIVE THAT PUNK EDITOR THE LAST WORD IN MY BOOK???
  22. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

All right, now Nigel the Editor seems a little frustrated. He keeps yammering on about why I can’t just write a fun chapter about what exactly I’m a doctor of. Would that really be so hard?

FINE.

We won’t set the “yayaya” world record, okay? We won’t have the honor of making history right here and now, even though over 7.3 million people were only seven seconds—seven fucking seconds!!—away from taking their rightful place in the Guinness Hall of Warriors.

But I’m not gonna write about what I’m a doctor of until I’m fucking good and ready. And you might wanna do a better job of staying on my good side, okay, bro?

No, that’s not a threat. Not in the legal sense, anyway.

I’m just saying—we live in a dangerous world. Shit happens. Crazy shit. Sometimes it can be helpful to be friends with a six-foot-eight hyper-athletic Adonis who has access to the latest cutting-edge Google technology in tactical vests, 4K HD scopes, and armored Lamborghini Diablos with custom GMV 1.3 1040 W-2 M5 Browning machine-gun turrets.

That’s all I’m saying. That and—

Yayaya!

Okay, done.

(Ya!)

CHAPTER 3 THE TWO-TIME

I woke up this morning, put on my white silk robe—the only thing I own that’s not slate black or blood red—and walked in front of my wall-sized mirror, letting my robe flutter open and fully exposing my butt-naked body.

I was on my way to my trophy room. It’s the part of my multimillion-dollar Top Secret Command Center I visit about six or seven times a day, just to soak in the glory of all my success. It’s really more of a gigantic hall than a room, because let’s be honest—I need a lot of square footage to fit all 19,226 of my plaques, victor’s cups, life-size golden statuettes, commemorative spears, and rare opals awarded to me by various dukes, sultans, and emperors.

But even with all these riches, even with all these honors and fine exotic spices and oils, nothing comes close to the prize that sits at the very top of the heap. There, underneath a domed skylight of the purest Tiffany crystal, with all these powerful red lasers shooting down and cool strobe lights and this mysterious mist that honestly, I don’t even know where it comes from—there is my plastic trophy from the 1993 Blockbuster Video Game Championship. It kind of looks like a popcorn box with a VHS tape coming out of it, all coated with this metallic bronze finish, you get the idea.

And next to that trophy, except a tiny bit higher, is one from the 1994 Blockbuster Video Game Championship, which pretty much looks the same as ’93’s, except for the year.