I pushed open the grimy saloon doors and strode up to the dirty old dude at the counter.

“Hey, I’m looking for some action,” I said under my breath. “Competitive game of Mario Kart, Double Dragon, Ninja Gaiden, pick your poison. Fifteen bucks a match. I’ll even give ’em a handicap.”

He looked at me. “You realize this is a Denny’s, right?”

I glared at him through my wraparound shades. “Fine. One game of Donkey Kong for a Moons Over My Hammy.”

“Sheesh, kid,” he said. “We don’t even have video games here. But if you’re hungry, I’ll give you something to eat.” He frowned. “Wait a second, aren’t you Paul and Diane’s kid from down the street?”

“THE NAME IS DR DISRESPECT AND I’M A HUNGRY WARRIOR TRAVELING THE COUNTRYSIDE ON MY WAY TO NATIONAL VIDEO GAME GLORY LIKE FRED SAVAGE IN THE WIZARD!”

And he was like, “That Fred Savage seems so nice. I loved him in Teen Wolf.”

And I was like, “That is Michael J. Fox. But I get it, easy mistake.”

And he said, “You, uh, sure you don’t want an apple or a cookie or something?”

“Chocolate chip?”

He nodded and handed me a cookie.

“Thanks,” I said. “The Doctor won’t forget your generosity when he’s a national icon.”

Just like that, I was back on the road. And the journey was a hard one, my friends, I won’t lie.

Except for my parents, I was all alone in this cruel, uncaring world. I walked and walked, my muscle-bound legs growing weary, like a powerful but grumpy camel crossing the vast Sahara. I finally decided it was time to bunk down for the night.

I threw my pack down onto the cold, hard ground and started to change into my He-Man pajamas. They were not only badass but also very warm and snuggly. I’d just stripped off my tactical jacket, my pants, and my Spider-Man Underoos when I heard the shouting of what I assumed was a crazy idiot.

“What the hell are you doing butt-nekkid on my front lawn!?” screamed the crazy old man. Even as angry as he was, I could tell he was impressed by my athleticism.

“How else do you expect me to bunk down for the cold, pitiless night?” I said.

“Night? It’s twelve fucking noon! Now get your pasty ass—” He squinted. “Hey, aren’t you Paul and Diane’s kid from down the street?”

“Hi, Stan!” my mom called from the Dodge Caravan. “Sorry for the intrusion! Our son is a little… different.”

“THE NAME IS DR DISRESPECT AND I AM ON A HISTORIC JOURNEY OF EPIC VIDEO GAME DOMINATION JUST LIKE FRED SAVAGE IN THE WIZARD!”

And Stan was like, “That Fred Savage seems so nice. I loved him in Webster.”

And I was like, “That was Emmanuel Lewis. But I get it, easy mistake.”