Then my parents looked at each other kind of funny and they were like, “Um, honey, we’d be happy to just drive you to your tournament in our Dodge Caravan. It’ll only take five minutes. Remember we were just there last weekend for the Bubbles the Killer Whale Show?”

And I was like, “OF COURSE I KNOW IT’S ONLY FIVE MINUTES AWAY! BUT I’M DR DISRESPECT AND I’M GONNA TRAVEL THE WORLD AND BE A NATIONAL MEGASTAR LIKE FRED SAVAGE IN THE WIZARD AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME!”

And they were like, “That Fred Savage seems so nice. We loved him in Karate Kid.”

And I was like, “That is Ralph Macchio! But I get it, easy mistake.”

And they were like, “Okay, you can do this, but we’re following you in the car.”

So I hit the road like the warrior I was, with nothing but my switchblade comb, my overdue copy of The Wizard, and a turkey sandwich my mom fixed. Oh, and also my He-Man pajamas, because they really are the baddest PJs ever made and I’ll fight anyone who says different.

The journey was a hard one, my friends, I won’t lie.

Except for my parents, there were no cars around to hitch a ride from. So I walked and walked and walked, my champion’s heart pounding, the sweat pouring down my chiseled prepubescent body from the tippity-top of my head to the tips of my toes.

And that was after just four blocks. Shit!

“Are you sure you don’t want to get in, uh, Doctor?” my mom called from the Dodge Caravan with its plush comfy seats and frosty-cool air-conditioning on full blast.

“Yeah, I’m sure! I will not ride to my destiny in America’s safest minivan!”

“Okay, dear, but you really should’ve taken a left two blocks back.”

“I did that ON PURPOSE!”

And I did do it on purpose—I swear! Because honestly it was like less than a fifteen-minute walk from my house to Marine World, and if I wanted a true odyssey of hurdles and challenges, I needed to go at least four miles, give or take three miles.

But after all that walking, all that epic journeying, I was starving. Hell, I was a growing boy at five foot five, with abs so hard you could use them to wash your Underoos. I checked my pack and remembered I’d already eaten my turkey sandwich three blocks ago, while still in my driveway.

“Are you hungry?” my mom shouted from the Dodge Caravan. “I packed a Lunchable for you!”

“No! This is part of the struggle!” Damn, that Lunchable looked delicious.

Then I looked and saw ahead, like it was fated to be, a seedy, grungy old saloon full of hard boys and biscuit-boxers. I could go inside and challenge some shark to a video game and win enough for dinner, easy peasy.